between the lines
by McMuffin
Summary: What if Haymitch and Effie were secretly together during The Hunger Games? (AN 18/03/13: Currently being revised and new chapters are being written. Not abandoned, I promise.)
1. Dark Paradise

**Originally intended to be a smutty oneshot ****explaining that mark on Effie's leg during the reaping (I paid close attention during the movie, lol), this is now a chaptered fic. What if Haymitch and Effie were secretly together during The Hunger Games? Movie compliant for now, but I may decide to merge both book and movie canon. Beta'd by supershipper, who also gets credit for the title. I hope you like it!**

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Chapter 1: Dark Paradise

She steps off the train in District 12, eyes roaming over the unchanged, dilapidated landscape. Years ago she would have wrinkled her nose at this place, but she's come to love it. She inhales; muggy and dusty in contrast to the artificially-clean air of the Capitol, and allows a smile to grace her features. She continues to smile as she leads the camera crew towards the eroding stage. One of them asks her why she's smiling, she lets them believe it's because of the reaping rather than she man she's about to see for the first time in months. She'd never truly smile about the reaping anymore - she would have once...before the gut-wrenching deaths of children who'd done nothing wrong became too much. Now she hides behind her eccentricities; never tells anyone too much save for the one man she can trust; always plays the perfect glittering escort to the public.

Later, after surveying the square with her umbrella shielding her from the sun, her lips pursed in displeasure as she thinks of the children she'll be sending to their deaths, she makes her way to the Victor's Village; the selection of those innocents mere hours away. The one place of luxury in this dying district, you'd think she'd love it but truthfully she's disgusted that only the children who are forced to be murderers get to experience such extravagance. Haymitch's door opens almost before she's stepped onto his porch, and he pulls her inside, enveloping her lithe body in his arms the second it closes.

"Haymitch," she breathes, burying her face in his shoulder, her arms splayed against the back she hasn't held in months.

"Eff," he mutters in response, ignoring how his pulse speeds up at her touch.

He's spent the morning making himself look presentable for her, not for the cameras. He isn't going to attend the reaping this year, something that he knows will piss off the capitol, but he knows that he can't bear to attend another one. Sure his government won't like it, but they've taken everyone he cares about away from him - except Effie, but no one knows their truth, in public they can't stand one another. She's the enthusiastic escort who adores the games and he's the drunken mentor who can't cope. He doesn't know how she does it –

A smile on her face is her weapon, her makeup is her war paint, her optimism is her alcohol.

He pulls her even closer, his mind briefly thinking over the possibility of losing her, but he knows that won't happen, and as much as he cares for her, he hates the reaping more.

"Haymitch... I can't breathe!" she squeaks, and it's only then that he releases her, meeting her worried gaze. Her hand comes up to cup his chin, manicured nails grazing his stubble. "Are you alright?"

He pauses a moment, thinking of the fretful nights alone, the memories of the slaughter, of the following slaughters, of the slaughters to come, and shakes his head. "No, I'm not," he tells her, no point in lying to the only person he knows he can completely trust. She may have been a Capitol girl, and still is in many aspects, but she's so much more, and he thinks that if she had grown up in his district she'd have been his sweetheart... Except then she'd be dead at the moment, and he doesn't want to think about it, almost pulls her in for another reassuring hug.

Effie nods in understanding and leans into him, her dark pink lips touching his for a brief, perfect moment. He sighs, and the corners of her lips tug upwards when she doesn't taste alcohol on his breath -

She visits him before every reaping so that she can get through the ceremony; he remains sober for her, before drinking so that he can get through the games.

"How... How has your year been?" She asks, her voice choking up ever so slightly over all the time spent without him.

"The same as always. I still haven't thought of a decent reason for you to come visit me."

Effie thinks he pouts slightly and laughs. "Maybe I'll have to come back later this year to retrieve the bracelet that fell off when I slapped you."

"Now why would you be slapping me?" Haymitch growls, his hand sliding along her arm.

"Because you're oh so infuriating," she teases and he laughs, and for a second he forgets everything except her. She loves it when he's sober - he's not an asshole, and she knows he means everything he says. He just wishes he had the courage to be sober all the time, but he thinks he used up all of his courage twenty four years ago.

"I'm infuriating, am I?" he eventually replies when their laughter has died down and sadness is creeping back into their eyes.

"Incredibly!" exclaims Effie, and he retaliates by picking her up around the waist and carrying her squealing into the living room. His furniture is sparse, but somehow she manages to scrape her leg against something and groan in pain before he deposits her on the couch.

"What is it?" he asks, and he swears he sees a blush under her white mask as she points at the barely-there scrape - the skin's turning pink and he can see speckles of blood, and he chuckles. She giggles along with him, knowing it's nothing, but that she has an extremely low tolerance for pain - something she attributes to her Capitol upbringing, something she thinks about more than she should. She wouldn't last two seconds in the arena -

She doesn't know how she got so lucky as to have the victor hovering over her think as highly of her as he does.

"Poor baby," mutters Haymitch as she pouts. "Would you like a kiss to make it better?"

Another laugh escapes her throat and Effie wonders why every day can't be like this moment. "Yes pwease," she mumbles, her hands finding the clean collar of his shirt, pulling his lips down to hers. He shifts above her, their lips touching softly at first, and then more and more fervently. His tongue brushes her bottom lip, slips inside her mouth and seeks out her tongue, his right hand roaming her side, his left elbow propping him up. Her legs wrap around his, her hands sliding through his hair - longer than last year - and down his back to grasp his ass. He makes sure to stay in okay shape, knows Effie appreciates it.

Her hands move to his front, unbuttoning his shirt, and he bites down on her bottom lip with a smirk, pulls the pink-tinged white wig from her head and allows her natural dark blonde hair to tumble around her face. He discards her wig on the floor, earning him a gasp and he can't help but laugh.

"Oh, Eff," he says with a smile, planting kisses along her jaw. She sighs in response, and then shares in his growl when he can't get to her neck because of the flowery choker she's wearing. She pushes him back onto his knees, unbuttons his shirt as he undoes her jacket, tugging hard on her sleeves to get it off. He discards his shirt, she removes her choker -

Her Capitol fashion is something he hates and loves. It's crazy and often unattractive, not to mention a bitch to remove, but it's a part of Effie that makes her who she is. He knows that it's artificial, but he loves it anyway, and he can't deny that she looks adorable most days.

Their clothes are finally discarded onto the floor around them and Effie's running her tongue along the shell of his ear, sighing softly as his fingers probe her wet folds. They're kneeling on the couch, facing each other, and she runs her hands down his back to grasp at his ass. Haymitch smirks, kissing her jaw and sliding two fingers up inside her, his thumb circling her clit, making her gasp. His left arm comes around to cradle her body and he dips his head to kiss her breasts. He's sending soft ripples of pleasure through her body, and she reaches around to stroke his erect cock.

Groaning in pleasure, he lowers her down on the couch, his fingers still pumping inside her as she fondles his dick. He slides his tongue over one of her nipples, grinning as he feels the response between her legs, even more liquid pooling in her hot centre. She runs her fake nails over his length, and he responds by biting the underside of her breast gently. Effie gasps, spreading her legs wider, allowing him to slide another finger inside her, his thumb still grazing her clit.

"Mm, Haymitch... I need you," she moans with a squeeze of his balls, and he can't see why he shouldn't comply with her very agreeable request.

He lets her guide him to her entrance, and kisses his way up to her lips, catching her half-lidded gaze as he slides inside her with one long thrust.

Effie's hands grasp his shoulders and she adjusts her legs to wrap around his waist as he rocks his hips against hers, driving his cock in to the hilt. They kiss messily, her breasts rubbing against his chest, his dick easily sliding in and out of her slippery pussy.

"Ohh, I've missed this," Effie manages to get out before he slams his hips hard against hers and she gasps.

"Me too," he says, pressing a kiss to her temple, changing the angle of his thrusts so he hits her clit in the process.

Minutes later and she's scraping her teeth into his shoulder, gripping his biceps tight as her orgasm rushes through her, making her head spin. He comes a few thrusts later, her walls still contracting around his dick as his cum spills inside her. He stills, kisses her softly, and collapses on the couch to the side of her, his cock still lodged between her thighs. Effie runs her hands absently through his hair, smiling at how good she feels.

"Mmm, I wish we could stay like this forever," she says; all husky and thoroughly-fucked.

"So do I, Princess," he murmurs, kissing her arm, blocking out all thoughts of the impending horrors. He's thankful that at least he has her to survive them with.

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**Reviews make my day! :)**


	2. Wish I Stayed

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourite'd & alerted this story. You make me so happy. :') btw, chapter titles are songs that loosely fit each chapter. Last chapter was Lana Del Rey, this one is Ellie Goulding. **

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Chapter 2: Wish I Stayed

They stay curled up together as long as they possibly can, stringing out the time until they have to face reality. She's rolled over and lying on top of him, smiling and writing words on his chest, getting him to guess what they are. This started out as a joke in the aftermath of their first time together. They'd been lying as they are now; she'd been circling his nipple with her finger. He'd said something about clichéd writing words on chests, and she'd started writing on his chest with a smirk, _it's romantic. _For that he'd flipped them over and held her down while he plunged into her recklessly, causing knots to form in her hair.

"S," says Haymitch, studying her face as she swirls her index finger over his skin. Lines around her eyes, the slight quirk of an eyebrow, eyes darting to meet his, tongue peeking out between closed lips, she mesmerises him.

"Mmhmm…" Effie nods, tracing the next letter.

"P?" he asks, not quite sure whether she's written "n", "p" or "r" in her cursive script, is a little too distracted by the rebellious strand of hair that keeps falling from behind her ear no matter how many times she brushes it back.

"No," she giggles, rewriting it.

"N."

"Yes," says Effie before drawing a perfect circle around one of his nipples, smirking when his breath hitches.

"O…" Haymitch licks his lips, watching the corners of her lips twitch, feeling her finger glide along his skin, spelling out the last letter. "W."

"And what does that spell?"

"Woman! Are you thinking about another man when you're lying naked with me?" he exclaims.

Effie bursts out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand, unable to control her peals of amusement. "No! Ew! Not Pres - I mean actual snow, the white stuff."

"You're thinking about the president's stuff now?" he teases crudely.

"No! That is disgusting!" she cringes.

"You're the one who said it!"

"I absolutely did not!"

"You did, Trinket," he chuckles, watching her become exponentially flustered.

"No! I – Argh!" She gives an unladylike groan and buries her face in his chest, holding her rude finger up at him.

Haymitch simply laughs at her indecent behaviour, loving that she can be herself around him and not have to act like a prude. However, if he pisses her off enough in public she'll mutter obscenities under her breath – soft enough that she can claim she didn't say anything. He waits for her to lift her head; runs his fingers through her hair.

"Why were you thinking about snow?" he asks her softly, and then clarifies. "Actual snow."

"Oh, I was just thinking that I've never seen this district in winter. I saw that scar on your shoulder – the one you got when you slipped in the snow – and was just thinking that. It would be nice," she comments, her chin now rested over his sternum.

"It's fuckin' cold."

"I'd have you to warm me up."

He chuckles, saving the twinkle in her eye to his memory. "You should come to retrieve that bracelet in winter, then."

"Bracelet?" Effie asks with lips parted in confusion.

"The one that fell off when you slapped me," Haymitch reminds her.

"Oh."

"Whereabouts are you slapping me, by the way?" he asks lewdly.

"Haymitch!" She giggles, raises her head from his chest to wiggle up his body and lick her lips, millimetres from his. "Wherever you want me to slap you."

She's never been this risqué in her life, but there's something about him that she likes. Something that allows her to be silly, crude, whatever she likes. The came could be said about him. When he's sober, that is. When he's drunk his behaviour is almost predictable, but when they're alone he'll sometimes blurt out things that she doesn't expect, even after years of knowing each other. As much as he does irritate her, she thinks he's wonderful –

A glance at the clock reminds her of death's impending harvest.

She pushes herself up on her arms, garners a perplexed stare from Haymitch. She sighs, nudges her head in the direction of his clock and proceeds to get up. He leers at her chest, watching as her breasts bounce with her movement, and decides he doesn't want her to be clothed and out of his sight just yet. He grabs her arm and pulls her back down with a crash. She barely has a moment to squeal his name before his lips are attacking hers, his hands roaming her chest.

"Haymitch!" she exclaims, tearing away from his lips. "I have to get dressed!"

"No you don't," he murmurs against the soft skin of her neck.

"Yes… Yes, I do." She pushes him away from her and stands up, avoids the hurt on his face.

Her clothes lie all over the floor, part of her imagines the looks of horror on the designers' faces if they knew the fate of their creations. She smirks to herself and reaches for her skirt first, deliberately bending over to give Haymitch a view of her ass. She hears his hiss and wishes she could stay, vocalises that thought softly.

"Skip the reaping. No one will know."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they'll know," she says, turning around and adjusting her skirt on her hips. Haymitch stands up and walks over to her, reaches for her skirt. She slaps his hand away. "Do _not_ remove this!"

"Relax. I'm just helping you adjust it," he growls, tugging on her skirt until it sits perfectly. "I think you should stay like this."

"Naked except for a skirt? My breasts for all of Panem to see? I don't think so," Effie says. "You should get dressed. You'll have to be on the train within the hour."

"Unlike you, it doesn't take me forever to get ready," he chuckles, bending down to kiss her left breast.

"If you're drunk it does." She doesn't mean to be so snarky, but the reminder of what she's about to do to two helpless children is making her bitter.

And it makes Haymitch scowl and step away from her, turning his back on her as she dresses, and he reluctantly does the same – she does have a point, no matter how cruel it is. She's well aware of his struggles, so he hates it when she calls him out on his drinking. It's like she's stabbing him in an already open wound. He doesn't always think about how his behaviour affects her, how hurt she is by his alcoholism.

"I'm leaving now…" she says softly, sounding like she might cry. He turns around and she's immaculately dressed, standing in front of his one unbroken mirror. He wonders how her makeup manages to stay as unaffected as it does throughout their activities.

"Okay… I'll… I'll walk you to the door," says Haymitch in a posh voice, almost mimicking the Capitol accent, in an attempt to lighten the mood. He hates seeing tears forming under pink eyelashes.

What sounds like a laugh creeps out of her lips and she allows him to guide her to his front door despite being well aware with the layout of his house. They walk down the corridor in silence, stopping before the exit like they're trying to prolong this peaceful isolation. Effie presses her lips to his, reaches for his hand to squeeze it, knowing that the next time she sees him he'll be drunk.

She tilts her head to the side, hopeful eyes silently asking if he'll come on stage like he's supposed to. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and watches as she turns towards the door; transforms into Capitol Effie the moment she's stepped outside. He returns to his kitchen and is soon letting the friendly burning liquid rush down his throat.

Forty minutes later and she's striding out onto the stage from the justice building, facing the crowd of thousands who surely want her dead; who would love to see her name drawn from the reaping ball. There's a bruise on her leg from earlier, but she didn't have any way of covering it up at Haymitch's house. If anyone asks, she'll claim they got into a fight and that she hates him.

Effie announces the 'movie' that they must watch and forces a smile onto her face as she watches it. She hates herself for once loving this propaganda, but still mouths the last words of it to keep up her façade.

"I just love that!" she exclaims, looking out at the solemn faces of the starving children and their desperate families.

When she announces Primrose's name her heart breaks at the sight of the girl – blonde, little, scared – and is reminded of herself, hiding behind a bush as peacekeepers arrest a green-haired man for complaining about President Snow. Then a taller girl is screaming, and hope is sparked. Effie can't hide her shock, turns to the mayor to check with him that this is allowed – they've never had a volunteer before, she doesn't want to make any mistakes. After screaming and tears from the younger girl, the stunned brunette is ushered onto the stage.

"Come on, dear," Effie urges, waving the girl up with a smile. She barely gets a word out of her, so she tries to engage the crowd for the Capitol's entertainment. No one claps; instead they raise their fingers in the three-fingered salute - Haymitch explained it to her once, and she has to force back the urge to join in.

"And now for the boys," she says, mustering a smile on her face, as she looks out at the crowd, and she swears she sees Haymitch in the distance. She chooses a slip quickly, wants this to be over and done with as soon as possible. Peeta Mellark walks to the stage quickly, his despair evident in his expression, and she wants to hug him – to hug Katniss Everdeen too.

Asking the two to shake hands, she notices the looks they give each other and can't help but wonder if there's something going on there. She also notices that the boy looks strong, and the girl volunteered… perhaps they'll have a pair of fighters this year. Effie returns to the microphone, old and static in this district, and pushes back the bile in her throat to utter the trademark _Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour._

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**What do you think? **


	3. Bitter Sweet Symphony

Chapter 3: Bitter Sweet Symphony

Like lambs for the slaughter the innocent two are chosen.

Haymitch watches from amidst the crowd of now-relieved family members. Katniss Everdeen's tall friend has carried her sister away and the little girl is now sniffling somewhere nearby. An emotion spreads through his gut and he lifts his bottle to his lips to force back what he's feeling. He can't bring himself to acknowledge it, even, he just keeps drinking. After Effie left his house he concluded that he would go to the reaping, but not before he downed half a bottle of clear liquid. He hates this moment more than anything, but he's realised that he can't piss off the Capitol too much or they may start to pay more attention to him.

And more importantly, to the person he holds dearest.

He couldn't bring himself to go up on stage, hates having to see the reactions of the district, but with these surrounding people smothering him, he almost wishes he was up there.

He studies the tributes as carefully as one can through blurry vision whilst Effie speaks, and he notices the slight waver to her voice. The boy, Peeta, seems muscular, and he thinks that he might be one of the bakers' sons; vaguely remembers buying bread years ago from a man who looks like him. He looks scared, almost like a gaping fish, Haymitch notes. Although Katniss isn't much better. He wonders if she regrets her desperate cry to volunteer for her sister. The two shake hands, sharing a look, and after her usual last words, Effie leads them away. Haymitch hides a smirk with his bottle, watching her ass as she strides off, and tries not to fall over when he tilts his head to the side to admire it from a different angle.

~.~

Effie fiddles with her fake nails as she waits for the tributes to say their goodbyes to their families. There are distant wails that she thinks belong to Primrose, and her heart breaks for Katniss' family just as it breaks every year. She wonders just when her heart will shatter completely. Will it be this year? Next year?

She's in a room with the mayor, his wife, and daughter, and a handful of other people with a platter of food in the centre of the table. Like most years, their small talk dies out within minutes, but no longer can Effie bring herself to talk about superficial Capitol issues around these people. The daughter, Madge, seems awfully upset and Effie can't help but ask her what's wrong as she's sniffling in the seat next to her; she wonders if she knew Katniss, they seem the same age.

"Katniss... Katniss was my friend..." Madge says softly, almost inaudibly, and Effie is reminded of the mother; silent and shrunken next to her husband, broken from her sister's games. Haymitch told Effie once, briefly. They don't mention his games, but after a failed attempt at socialising with the mayor's wife on Effie's part, he'd felt like he should at least explain why Madge's mother is so broken.

"_Is_ your friend," corrects Effie, reaching a hand out to gently squeeze Madge's shoulder.

The girl looks up at her, disbelief written across her face, mingling with fear and grief. This, right here, is what Effie cannot stand about the games anymore. She wishes she could show every Capitol citizen the truth behind their fun television show, but knows she'll never achieve that.

"Don't give up on Katniss. She's a volunteer... and volunteers... they don't usually lose," she says softly, catching the girl's eyes. "I have a good feeling about her."

And it's true, she does. She just hopes she isn't wrong.

She's about to say more when a Peacekeeper enters the room, informing her that the tributes are finished saying goodbye. She squeezes Madge's shoulder once more and is relieved to see a hopeful expression on the girl's face. She leaves the room and finds Katniss and Peeta being escorted by Peacekeepers. Smiling at the tributes, she ushers them outside and through the crowds to the car. She forces her self-hate deep inside her and continues to do what is required of her - chatter about the Capitol on the way to the train station. Neither of the tributes pay any attention to her, and it takes all of her willpower not to reach for Peeta's hand as tears trickle down his face, hates that she must continue to play this airheaded role.

She ushers the two onto the train with a smile; at least she gets to witness their amazement at the luxury of the Capitol. As disgusting as it is, she adores seeing their reactions to the extravagance, and hopes they enjoy it. Katniss stops at the entrance to their train car, like she's nervous, and Effie has to tell her to go in before sending one last smile to the cameras before they're out of sight.

The escort follows the tributes around the train, smiling widely as they take in every last detail. They sit down as the train leaves the station, and Effie continues to talk as they pick up speed. Katniss is staring at her with contempt oozing from her pores and Peeta seems lost in thought. Effie gives up; she doesn't need to annoy them with talk that is annoying herself. She does love the luxury of the Capitol, just hates that it comes at the expense of the majority of their country.

"I'm going to find Haymitch. He's probably in the bar car," she tells them, hoping she doesn't sound too eager, but can't help swinging her arms as she walks away.

~.~

Haymitch staggers towards the train station from the square, vaguely remembers being put in a car by Peacekeepers and escorted to his room on the train. He collapses onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling and letting his thoughts become mindless. He takes gulps from his bottle, some of it missing his mouth and trickling down his cheek onto the sheets. At some stage when his thoughts are on Effie's very nice ass and that tight pink skirt, he wonders where she is. He'd heard noise outside sometime ago and would guess that she's probably on the train. He pushes himself up, finishes his alcohol off, figuring that he can get some more from the other train cars. Stumbling out of his room it occurs to him that the train is now moving, and he shakes his head, trying to regain his balance.

The automatic door opens and he is greeted by stares from this year's tributes. He'd like to say he doesn't remember their names, but he always does. He'll never forget his tributes. He offers up a sarcastic _congratulations_ as he reaches for a bottle and looks around, wondering where Effie is. He channels his anger at her vacancy into asking where the ice is - he prefers it with ice, hates any non-chilled drink because it reminds him too much of the warmth of blood - and slamming the lid on the container when Peeta doesn't know. He supposes he should sit with the children and make some sort of conversation with them; not that he feels like it, his head is pounding.

"Okay... So, uh... So when do we start?" Peeta asks eagerly.

"Whoa... whoa... so eager. Most of you aren't in such a... hurry." Haymitch struggles with his words, his head filled with thoughts of Effie - _where is she?_

Peeta continues to question Haymitch, who still isn't paying much attention. _Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?_ He remembers Katniss asking him why he's here in a rude tone and he decides he doesn't like her very much; also vaguely remembers shoving his foot on Peeta's chest, but doesn't know why. He's made his way down to his room now, after almost heading in the wrong direction, and is munching on a cake. There's a knock on his door, followed by Peeta entering his room.

"What?" slurs Haymitch, looking at him sideways from his place on the bed.

"I, uh... what are you drinking?" Peeta asks, closing the door behind him.

"Scotch. You want some?" The older man holds out the bottle, eliciting a laugh from the tribute, who shakes his head. Haymitch doesn't remember much else of this conversation, just that at some stage he wakes up on the floor, with Peeta holding him up under the arms, dragging him towards the bathroom.

"What're you doing?" snarls Haymitch.

"You need a shower, you vomited all over your vest," Peeta comments, prompting Haymitch to look down at his chest and see the evidence himself. He groans; Effie gave him this vest, and he quite likes it..._ Where is Effie, anyway?_

_~.~  
_

"Haymitch?" Effie calls, looking around the bar car, which is stocked with all the liquor imaginable. In theory it's nice, but in practice it just means that the drunken mentor has unlimited access to his poison.

Surprisingly, he's not in here. She checks behind the couches and shelves in case he's passed out behind them. When she's satisfied that he's not, she wanders through the next two carriages to the back of the train and can't help but relax on one of the couches with the back windows retracted so she's riding in the open. She's always wondered what would happen if she were to fall off the edge of the train. Would the high speed and impact onto the ground kill her instantly? Would it be a slow death? Or does the Capitol have force fields up so that it would be impossible? She sits alone, with only her thoughts and the howl of the wind as friends, until she decides to continue her search for Haymitch. She assumes he'll be in his room if he's not here, and she guiltily admits to herself that she's dreading seeing him when he's drunk like he's certain to be.

She makes her way towards the front of the train, the dining room where she left Peeta and Katniss empty as she passes it. When she reaches Haymitch's room, she knocks once before pressing the button to open the sliding door, and steps inside just in time to see a pair of legs drag along the floor, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Haymitch?" She exclaims, wondering what is going on.

"Oh, hey Effie," comes the response from Peeta. She walks into the room to stand in the bathroom's doorway, seeing Peeta crouched on the floor beside a barely-lucid Haymitch. She frowns, wondering what is going on, when Peeta speaks again. "He needs a bath."

"Right," she murmurs, her gaze softening as she sees the state Haymitch is in. Vomit covers his vest, his clothes are wrinkled and his head is lolling from side to side like it's made of elastic. "I can take it from here. You should go and look around your room, it's really wonderful!"

"You sure?" asks Peeta, looking up at her, stunned.

"Yes," she smiles sweetly. "It's not your job to look after him - it's supposed to be the opposite." The tribute still looks skeptical, and she doesn't blame him; to him she's just another dumb Capitol citizen. "I've known him for years, it's fine."

"Alright, Effie," he says disbelievingly, standing up to leave the bathroom. Effie takes his place next to Haymitch, grasping the drunk's jaw gently between her fingers and tilting his head towards her.

"Effie!" Haymitch finally exclaims, just after she hears the door to his room slide shut.

"Haymitch... Oh, Haymitch..." she says softly, her chest aching to see him this intoxicated.

"Eff," he says with a smile. "You're here!"

"I am." She nods, reaching to unbutton his soiled vest.

"You're not dead," he murmurs, and it's the last thing he says before he hiccups, more vomit leaving his mouth, and passes out.

Effie bites her lip, holding back tears as she turns his head to the side so he can't choke, and gets up quickly. She locks the door to his room and peels her own clothes off, leaving them by his bed, before returning to the bathroom and undressing him. She knows how badly the reapings affect him; the horrors of his own reaping intermixing with the horror of every other reaping; but it's like she blocks out how drunk he gets from her memory. She doesn't like to think about the days that are like this, focuses only on their happier moments when she's alone in the Capitol. She drags him into the shower with her, managing to get him propped up against the wall. It occurs to her that this is the first time they've gotten undressed without the intention of having sex, and finds it oddly calming.

At some stage during their shower he wakes up, vomits some more, grins at her, and then passes out again. This time, Effie can't help her tears. She finishes washing him and pulls him out of the shower, thankful for the smooth tiles. Once they're dry she hauls him into his bed, surprised at her own strength. She doesn't bother dressing him, he often sleeps nude anyway, and pulls the covers up around him. The movement seems to have woken him up again, and he reaches to grasp her arm as she tucks the covers in.

"Effie..." he murmurs, looking at her through glassy eyes. "Stay?"

She glances at the digital clock, it's only mid-afternoon, but she can't think of anything she'd rather do. After closing the curtains and double-checking that she locked the door, she climbs into bed with him. Haymitch sighs softly and watches her with one eye as she wriggles closer to him, facing him. Her makeup has been washed away, her hair damp on her pillow. He feels guilty for being as drunk as he is, he can see the hurt in her expression as she leans in to kiss his nose.

"Sorry..." he murmurs, swallowing and tasting bile with a grimace.

Effie rolls over for a moment, presses a button and a bottle of water extends from the wall. "Here."

"Thanks." Haymitch drinks a few mouthfuls of water before placing the bottle behind him on the bedside table.

He smiles groggily at her again before closing his eyes, succumbing to the heavy desire to sleep, alcohol still racing through his blood. Effie watches as his expression slowly turns from a tortured grimace to the peaceful relaxation of sleep before allowing her own eyelids to close. She can only hope that he doesn't have a nightmare.

At least he doesn't have his knife.

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**Welp, this chapter got depressing. The next one will be fluffier and pornier I promise. ;)**

**Also, in regards to that Madge scene - I wanted to show Effie's compassion, and also, I love Madge and I wanted her to exist in this fic. Please review and let me know what you thought. :)  
**


	4. Between Sheets

**I had intended for them to leave the bed in this chapter... but that didn't happen. I'm sure you won't mind. ;)**

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Chapter 4: Between Sheets

Deep in slumber, immersed in her dreams, it takes Effie a few moments to realise that the fearful groans are coming from the man beside her and not her subconscious. She slowly rolls over, pinned down by one of his dead-weight arms, and runs her hand soothingly over his chest.

"Haymitch..." she whispers. "Haymitch, wake up."

Another howl-like moan escapes his lips and she can only imagine which horror is plaguing him tonight. She rubs her hand in circles, feeling his heart beating beneath her fingertips, and hopes he wakes up soon. A glance at the clock reveals they've been asleep for almost twelve hours, but it's still too early to start the day. She's wondering how on earth she managed to sleep for so long when she's suddenly being pressed onto her back. Haymitch's hand is at her throat and she's certain there'd be a knife digging into her skin if he had it.

"Haymitch, it's me!" She tells him, looking into his eyes and waiting for him to recognise her.

A few moments later he blinks and her face comes into focus. "Effie," he breathes out softly, relieved that she's not a monster from his dream. He realises that he's got her trapped underneath him and that she's trying not to let her fear show. He shifts his arm from her neck and props himself up on either side of her body, their chests touching. "Good morning," he smiles, trying to reassure her that he's not about to kill her.

"Good morning," exhales Effie with a matching smile. Convinced that he's pushed his nightmare into the recesses of his mind, she runs her fingers along his biceps. "How are you feeling?"

"I've got a splitting headache, actually, and my body aches," Haymitch mutters with a sheepish grin.

"I thought as much." The blonde murmurs with a smirk, reaching to the bedside table and retrieving two green pills from the top drawer. "Here."

Haymitch takes the pills from her and immediately dry swallows them, wanting nothing more than to not be hung-over so that he can actually enjoy some alone time with his - with her. From the lack of outside light creeping through the cracks, he guesses that it's early morning, and the clock confirms this.

"We were asleep a long fuckin' time," he comments, dragging his gaze over Effie's face, fresh from so many hours of sleep.

"We were." She nods in agreement, lifting her right hand to tuck his long hair behind his ear. "It'll do you good, Haymitch. You never sleep enough."

Haymitch would find that condescending if it weren't for the concern so clearly in her voice. "It's done you good, Eff. You look... refreshed." He smiles before leaning down to kiss her softly.

She returns his kiss, unable to wipe the smile from her lips. Moments like this, when they can forget the world around them and just be them, are her favourite. She wishes she could stay in bed with him forever; wishes this every time they're together.

Haymitch is fighting with the words on the tip of his tongue, unable to decide whether to apologise for yesterday's behaviour and bring up the events, or just ignore it completely. Eventually, under her scrutinising gaze, he manages to choke out a Sorry... for last night.

"It's fine," Effie responds, doesn't want to talk about it when they have a chance to just be happy together.

They're silent for a few minutes, Haymitch battling both his intense hangover and his urges to ravish her until she screams; Effie wondering whether they should in fact discuss why he got so drunk yesterday and whether that is his dick growing hard against her leg or just her imaginings caused by him being naked atop her.

"Damn," says Haymitch eventually. "If there's one thing I like about the Capitol, it's their damn fine medicine."

She laughs; the hangover medication has clearly kicked in, and presses a kiss to his collarbone. But she can't help the pout that forms on her face when he doesn't mention liking her.

"And you, of course," he says with a laugh when he sees her expression. "You are my favourite thing about the Capitol, gorgeous."

A grin forms on Effie's face and she leans in to brush her lips against his, gasping when he suddenly nips at her bottom lip. He chuckles against her lips before deepening their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he pushes his hips against hers. She finds out that yes, that is his erection pressing against her, and drags her hands down his bare back. She loves that they're already naked, and so does he. Their tongues battling, her hands reach his ass and squeeze firmly, making him groan into her mouth.

"Fuck, you are definitely my favourite thing about the Capitol," he mutters, pulling away from her lips to kiss her neck, straight down her trachea.

"Good," Effie giggles, bringing her hands back up to tangle in his hair.

Haymitch nips at the hollow of her throat before sliding his tongue between her breasts and swirling around them like an infinity symbol. She lets her eyes close, enjoying the feeling of his tongue and lips circling around her right breast with a decreasing diameter until he's sucking on her nipple. He does the same to her other breast and she thinks she might come when he grinds his hips against hers and his cock presses against her already wet entrance.

A whimper leaves her lips as he heads south, and she tugs on his hair, his hands sliding over her stomach and creating goose bumps. His hands then find her thighs, and grip them lightly as he spreads her legs and lowers his mouth to her clit. His hard on is throbbing against the mattress as he flicks his tongue out over her nub and she throws her head back into the pillow in response. Gliding his tongue lower over her body he finds her warm folds and delves his tongue inside into her wet core.

"Oh, God," moans Effie as he thrusts his slippery tongue inside of her, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs. He smirks and moves to slip two fingers inside of her, rubbing against her slick walls and getting her all hot and crazy. Morning sex is the way to wake up, they both mutually agree. His mouth finds her clit again, licking and sucking it while his fingers pump inside her with poor rhythm. He's never been one to be coordinated in bed, but she loves his untamed movements and unpredictability. His stubble grazes her skin but he's careful not to scratch her as he engulfs her clit in his mouth and adds a third finger to her pussy.

Haymitch has Effie on the brink of ecstasy within minutes, and with a few well-placed thrusts of his fingers and sloppy swirls of his tongue over her clit, he has her juices gushing out of her and her body shaking with her orgasm.

"Fuck," Effie hisses through closed eyes, breathing laboured and chest heaving. He grins and laps up her juices before he reaches down to stroke his cock and ease the built-up tension.

"Haymitch, fuck me…" She moans as his thumb swirls over her clit. Haymitch grins, kissing back up her body and positioning his member at her entrance. He slides inside her completely in one fluid movement, his lips pressing kisses to her jaw.

"Shit, Ef," he hisses, his cock enveloped by her warm walls.

She echoes his sentiment before he starts rocking his hips against hers. Her fingers grip his strong back as his thick member slides in and out of her wet folds. She bucks her hips up to meet his thrusts - long and deep and hitting all the right places. Effie wraps her legs around his waist and smiles up at him as he speeds up his movements, their chests brushing against each other. He braces his right hand above her head while his left hand moves to brush across her cheek gently. His dick drives inside of her faster and faster, and the hot walls of her centre grip his shaft like a vice, while her lips part in a stream of soft moans. All-too aware of the need to keep quiet, Effie pulls his head down to force her lips against his. Haymitch kisses her sloppily as they rock back and forth on the bed. His cock pounds inside of her dripping pussy, the pleasure inside of her increasing exponentially. He groans as he muffles yet another of her moans and her fingernails drag across his shoulders lightly. She moves her legs up higher around his back, allowing his manhood to penetrate deep into her pussy each time. His balls slap against her hot entrance and the friction between them is almost mind blowing. Haymitch slips a hand down between them to rub at Effie's clit as he feels her muscles beginning to clench around him.

"Ohhh!" She moans against his lips as her orgasm washes over her body. Her walls tighten around him, and with a few quick, deep strokes, he is emptying himself inside of her.

"Fuck," he groans as he squirts his stringy seed inside of her and fills her up. Effie gasps for air and gazes into his eyes lovingly and lustily as her orgasm slowly dies away, but she still feels on a high. Haymitch pulls out of her and collapses next to her, his arm draped over her as he presses into her side. "That was..."

"The best way to wake up?" She giggles softly, turning to face him.

"Yes. The fuckin' best."

"Better than with alcohol?" She chances.

"A thousand times better," he replies immediately, shocking even himself.

The smile that Effie gives him makes his heart flutter and he doesn't want to consider what that means. This whole thing would be so much easier if it simply didn't exist, but he can't bring himself to give up these moments with Effie for anything. There are only a handful of them each year, but they're what he craves in the time they're apart. In the beginning he had a few flings with other women during the year, and he knows she had dalliances with other men - Seneca Crane was one of them - but not anymore. Now they're in an unofficial exclusive relationship that is fast becoming more than either of them should have allowed to happen.

"I like your hair when it's washed... It's surprisingly soft," she murmurs, running her fingers through it.

"And I like yours when it's not under one of your wigs," he says softly.

Her gaze wavers for a moment before she replies. "I know."

"Which wig will you be wearing today?" Haymitch's hand drops to squeeze her ass and she squeals softly.

"You'll have to wait and see," she smirks.

He knows she plans out her outfits for each of the first days of the games months in advance. She chooses wigs, dresses, heels, makeup, jewellery throughout the year in order to look perfect for the important Games days. When she told him this it'd been after he'd given her a rare compliment on her Capitol fashion and she'd gushed about how long that particular fabric had taken to find. He'd then proceeded to call her a ditzy idiot and she'd ignored him for the rest of the day. He now understands that fashion is just one of the many ways she distracts herself from hating her government and fellow citizens.

He also loves how she now picks out his outfits for these days. He wears something of his choosing for the reaping - often something she picked out the year before - and then finds new clothes in his closet on the train to wear throughout his time in the Capitol. He hasn't looked at what she's bought him this year, but he's sure to find out soon.

They talk about things - both important and trivial - until Effie decides it's time to get up. Katniss and Peeta probably won't be awake for another hour or so, but she has to sneak back to her room to get dressed. She peels herself out of bed after Haymitch is done peppering kisses along her jaw and holding her close, and picks up her clothes from his floor. She slides her dress over her head, no underwear and not done up because it's too much effort, because she refuses to heed his suggestion and dash to her room naked.

"I like the view," Haymitch comments as she bends down to pick up her shoes, admiring the way her dress strains against her ass.

"Of course you do," Effie rolls her eyes and blows him a kiss, walking towards the door.

But before she can unlock it, Haymitch is dashing out of bed and pressing her up against the cool metal. She gasps, almost dropping the items in her hands as he lifts her off the floor and sucks at her neck. She can yet again feel his erection on her thigh, and sighs when he mutters that it'll only take five minutes. She hates that the man has the ability to ruin her punctuality. He has to bunch her dress up around her waist to be able to slide inside her, and her shoes and other accessories do fall to the floor as he takes her against the door.

Effie muffles her moans into his neck, his long hair tickling her face as he moves inside her. She's still just as aroused as she was before, and true to form, five minutes later she's biting down on his skin as they orgasm together. He puts her down on the ground, and with many more kisses and smiles she's able to get away back to her room.

Safe in her room, she begins her morning routine with more energy than ever, unable to control the smile that has taken over her face.

Back in bed for a few more minutes of sleep, Haymitch finds that his lips have also turned upwards.


	5. The Lifestyle

**I meant to update this sooner, I apologise. Time slips away from me so easily. Thank you all very much for the reviews, favourites, alerts, etc. :') I hope you like this chapter. Oh, also, the title for this chapter is a Metric song and the previous chapter was Imogen Heap. :)  
**

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Chapter 5: The Lifestyle

The next time Haymitch sees Effie, she's patting white powder onto her face, lilac purple wig obscuring her real hair as she sits straight as a ruler in a chair. He once asked her whether she wore a corset or something to be able to sit up so straight; she'd laughed him off and said etiquette was the cause. She also told him that she can walk around with a book on her head, and he reminds himself to ask her to show him one day. He thinks the Capitol fashion is ridiculous but he's not about to tell her that. Especially not when he knows he'll soon be wearing a dark blue suit with a striped shirt and purple tie, which he begrudgingly admits to liking.

"Why are you covering up your face, pretty girl?" he murmurs, hovering over the side of the chair, and she turns towards him with a smile.

"You know I have to."

"I know. Doesn't mean I like it," he replies, stealing a kiss before sitting down at the table.

A few moments later and Peeta is joining them. Effie quite likes this year's tributes, and hearing his eager questioning of Haymitch, she's starting to think he might have a chance. Effie decided at the reaping that Katniss would either win or go down fighting - volunteers don't like wasting their lives. The door to the compartment slides open and Effie glances up as the volunteer herself walks in. Katniss doesn't appear to be in a good mood, so the escort ignores her and continues applying makeup.

She listens to the conversation - if you could call it that - between Katniss and Haymitch, all clipped words and annoyed sentences. Her teeth grind together when she realises Haymitch is drinking, but it's not until she hears the sound of a knife slamming into the table that she loses her resolve.

"That is mahogany!" she tells them, noticing that the knife is very near to Haymitch's fingers, but thinks that he deserves it.

Not much later and they've reached the Capitol. She watches Peeta wave to the crowds and decides that at this stage she wants to help this endearing boy win more than the girl. It's a horrible thought, choosing between tributes, but all mentors and escorts do it. Just not usually Effie because theirs are usually dead before it matters.

"Ef!" Haymitch says, making his way towards her as she sends their tributes out of the train, urging Katniss to smile.

She glances at him just long enough to scowl before stepping off the train, suddenly all smiles for the public. He doesn't know what he's done to receive that look, just knows that he's going to need another mouthful of alcohol to brave the screaming crowds of the Capitol. Breakfast with Katniss was bad enough; he was almost enjoying his conversation with Peeta before she came and marred the air with her sullen behaviour. He's not used to actually advising his tributes, most of them are too weak to bother with questions. They know they'll die.

He doesn't know what it is about Katniss that irritates him; he suspects it might be because she reminds him of himself.

Haymitch returns to his room on the train to change into the suit Effie had left for him in the cupboard. He exits the train at the last possible moment, Peacekeepers snarling at him to hurry up. Capitol attendants follow him out, carrying small suitcases with the handful of his and Effie's personal belongings from the train. The crowd surges around him, shouting his name and it's like Effie's next to him, whispering in his ear to smile. He does, briefly, when he thinks of the things she whispered in his ear this morning. The crowd seems to think he's smiling at them for once and the cheering increases tenfold. He decides he doesn't care to snarl at them, lets mindless folk be mindless and hopes Effie sees footage of this moment.

In a car on the way to the bar where he's sure to find his friend Chaff, his mind yet again wanders to thoughts of Effie. She'll be visiting her parents at the moment - they always want to see her when she's back from a trip to the district, like they're worried she won't survive the place. He met them once, her second, maybe third year as an escort. It'd been at some Capitol party he'd been stupid enough to let her drag him to because of the promise of free alcohol. Her father had seemed nice enough, teasing Effie and playing with her wig. And her mother was like Effie but worse. All fake-faced and haughty, she'd quickly driven him mad with her 'oh, you do slouch a lot's and 'do you ever wash your hair?'s.

~.~

Effie leaves her parents' place early, knowing all too well that the traffic around this time of year is insane. They'd been relieved to see her and she finds it ridiculous that they act like District 12 is dangerous. The Capitol is more dangerous than that struggling place where poverty is the biggest problem. She was distracted though, her mind mulling over Haymitch and his alcoholism. She so desperately wishes she could help him stop, and part of her is hurt that she isn't enough for him to be sober.

She makes the driver stop at her apartment so she can grab her suitcase, full of clothes she didn't bring on the journey to District 12, before heading to the training centre. Stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse she nearly bumps into Haymitch. He's lurking near the entrance and she wonders if he was waiting for her.

"Haymitch," she acknowledges him with pursed lips.

"Effie..." he replies, knowing that this disdain is more than just a show for potential eavesdroppers, "What did I do?"

"Do you need to ask?" murmurs Effie, attempting to stride past him, rolling her suitcase behind her.

"I do, actually," he growls, increasing the length of his steps to keep up with her.

She sighs and stops to face him. "You," she hisses. "You and your drinking."

"What of it?" he asks, his mind swirling through hazy memories of the day - an enjoyable morning with Effie, Katniss nearly stabbing his hand at breakfast, an intolerable Capitol crowd, a raucous catch up with Chaff. Nothing seems like it would be the cause of her boiling anger.

"You... You..." she glances around with a huff. "I'm going to put this away in my room, and see if they've put in any new furniture; I could use some more space for my shoes."

From the look she gives him - still annoyed, but also hinting at another message - he concedes that she doesn't want anyone overhearing her words. He follows her into her room in the penthouse, noting that it's been repainted.

He watches as she roams the room, looking around corners and underneath things where the room could potentially be bugged. He checks as well, despite their conclusion in previous years that they wouldn't bother bugging the bedrooms here; especially not the room of a Capitol escort. They may have a peacekeeping force from District 2 and be extremely tight on crime, but they do not have the manpower or the technology to spy on every single citizen. He knows they would have spied on him for the first few years following his victory, but after years of drunken nothingness why would they bother? They don't have any leverage over him anyway. If they were going to spy on any of the districts' apartments in the training centre it would be 11 or 8; a district more prone to uprising.

"Any more space for your shoes, sweetheart?" he mutters.

"No," Effie replies, turning to face him with arms crossed.

"So... I take it you're annoyed at my drinking, then?" asks Haymitch.

"I am beyond annoyed, Haymitch! I am... argh!" She snarls, and he almost takes a step back; she is normally so composed. "We had a perfectly nice morning and then, what? The moment I leave you start drinking again?"

"Actually, I went back to sleep. _Then _I woke up and drank," he tells her with a slight smirk, preferring to have her blow up at once and spill everything, rather than be annoyed with him for days.

Instead of screaming, however, her body seems to deflate. She loses her perfect posture as her shoulders slump forwards and she raises a hand to her mouth to muffle the whimper that escapes her. Tears are welling up in her eyes and a frown forms on his face as he wonders what's going through her mind.

"Effie?" he asks softly, taking a step towards her.

"No." The choked word comes out of her mouth as she holds out the hand that was covering her mouth. "Don't."

"Effie... tell me, what's wrong?" Haymitch has never seen her like this; struggling with words and holding back tears but unable to tell him what she's feeling.

She shakes her head, glances at the ground, opens and closes her mouth like she's struggling with her words. And she is. She can't figure out how to voice what she desperately wants to ask; can't bring herself to risk hearing the answer that will break her.

"Why?" She finally gasps. "Why... Why am I not good enough to make you stop drinking?" Tears are falling freely down her porcelain face and he wishes he could tell her that she is enough.

"I... you... I'm trying, Ef, really..." he mumbles, walking towards her.

"No you're not!" Effie replies, taking a step backwards for his every forward move.

"I am. Really. You don't - you _can't_understand. I wish I was better, dammit! I wish I was sober and nice and didn't depend on a bottle... but it's taken control of me, Effie. It's taken fucking control and I can't... I can't... I can't..." The volume of his voice diminishes as he corners her against the wall. His own vision becomes blurry as he gazes down on her crying face. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, pressing his body against hers, tilting her chin up with shaking fingers.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she replies, lacking most of her usual bite.

"I'm sorry, Ef. I'm..." Haymitch trails off, hoping that he can adequately convey how much she means to him. "I _am _sorry."

She sniffles again before he gently presses his lips to hers, his right hand coming up to cup the back of her head, his left resting on her hip, his thumb running over the soft material. He kisses her until she stops crying; until she can no longer do anything but feel her pulse pounding in her ears. She thinks she might just be in love with the man as he steps away from her with a smile, bringing both thumbs up to wipe away a few remaining tears from her cheeks.

"How did you know what to look for when searching for bugs, by the way?" Haymitch asks, straightening her wig atop her head.

"There are things you don't know about me yet, Mr. Abernathy," she replies with a coy smile.


	6. So Happy I Could Die

**Sorry for taking so long to update, again. I've got a lot going on in my life at the moment.**

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Chapter 6: So Happy I Could Die

"Really? What kind of things don't I know about you?" asks Haymitch, his hands falling to her hips, thumbs sweeping over the soft material of her dress.

"Oh, all sorts." Effie smirks, all traces of tears removed from her face.

"Sexy things?" His right hand sweeps across her derrière as he looks at her with lust-filled eyes. She laughs, her hands sliding along his shoulders, playing with his collar as she nods in response. He quirks an eyebrow, tugs her closer to him. "Really? I thought I knew _everything_ about that."

Effie brings her lips to his ear, her hands lacing around the back of his neck. "I have some stories about me and Seneca which you don't know."

"Don't make me angry, woman," Haymitch growls, squeezing her ass tightly.

"Oh _Haymitch_," she laughs, her warm breath tickling his ear. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

"Of course I am. Another man's hands all over you?" He snarls, sucking at a bit of exposed skin; not quite hard enough to break capillaries, he's not stupid.

"He had more than his hands on me, sweetheart," giggles Effie, dragging her nails through his hair, riling him up.

He knows her relationship with Seneca was fast-lived and years ago, but he can't help but be possessive of his -

They still haven't labeled what she is to him. Girlfriend seems too frivolous, lover is too sensual, partner, perhaps, he doesn't know. Part of him thinks the only label he'll ever give her is when he calls her his wife.

"That's it," mutters Haymitch as he reaches for the zipper in the back of her dress. Undone, he can slide his hands through the slit to roam her back as he kisses his way from her bare shoulder, up her neck, to her mouth.

She slips her tongue between his lips, her fingers delving into his messy hair, her body pressing fervently against his. She feels his hands cup her ass through her dress again before they're meticulously roaming over her body. She giggles, realising he can't figure out how to remove her dress, and bites down on his bottom lip as she waits for him to give up. A minute or so later and he huffs in frustration and she laughs again, stepping back from him to undress herself. Haymitch watches as she undoes the belt around her waist and reaches behind herself to further unzip the dress.

"You didn't unzip it all the way, silly," teases Effie as she wiggles the silken creation down her hips, letting it pool to the floor, stepping out of it in her gold heels and black silken underwear.

"'S not my fault your Capitol fashion is so fuckin' confusing," he replies, instantly pulling her back to him so he can pull off her wig and kiss her again with wandering hands.

She feels her nipples harden against his chest as his calloused palms explore her figure. She slowly works on the buttons of his jacket, preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers sliding down her ass and between her legs to drag across her slit. He's growing hard, she can feel it through his pants, and impatient; his movements are faster, less controlled. He's kissing her fiercely, his hands roaming her ass, thighs and the entrance to her pussy. He tugs on her panties, about to pull them down when she tears away from his lips and shakes her head.

Haymitch wants to take her in an animalistic manner, wants to prove that she is his, but that doesn't mean he doesn't comply when she licks her lips and pushes him backwards to sit on the bed. His cock throbs in his pants, watching while Effie checks the door is locked and returns to him. Standing in front of him in just underwear and heels, he's consumed by her image. He doesn't even care about the crazy make up on her face; she's sexy.

She bends down, undoing the last button on his coat and letting him pull it off before starting on the buttons of his vest. She deliberately breathes heavily, knowing he's staring blatantly at her cleavage. It feels like it takes forever for his vest to come undone, and he finds his own breathing is becoming laborious. He can't help but stroke his dick through his suit pants, attempting to relieve some of the pent up pressure as he admires her cleavage. He thinks he can just make out her nipples straining against her soft bra, and moans audibly as multiple images of her bare breasts come to mind. A seductive laugh purrs its way from her lips and she leans forward to help push his vest off.

"Fuck, Eff, I want you," he admits.

"You'll have me... _Eventually_," she giggles, admiring the pout on his lips. She doesn't know why she's enjoying teasing him this much, thinks it's some sort of payback for his drinking this morning.

Effie kneels down, pushing Haymitch's legs apart as she starts undoing his shirt's buttons. Going slower than ever and with her face to close to his aching cock, he hates her seductive torture. He's reaching down with the intention of stroking his length again when he feels her lips press against him through his pants. He jolts in pleasure, hips bucking forward as she presses open-mouthed kisses along his clothed-member.

"Shit!" He exclaims, then grits his teeth when she shushes him. Quietness is important here, but it can be hard to comply.

Effie finally undoes the last button on his shirt and he practically flings it from his body before reaching forward and lifting her up. She falls atop him when he lies down and can feel his erection straining against her pubic bone. Her panties are slick with arousal, and Haymitch quickly removes them and her bra, before flipping them over. His clothes are off in record time, and she barely has a moment to run her hands along his bare chest before he's pushing inside her wet core.

A gasp spills from Effie's lips, soon followed by another, and another as Haymitch plunges his cock over and over into her pussy. She wraps her legs around his, her feet resting lightly against his calves. Her fingers brush over his sensitive nipples as he dips his head to kiss her shoulder where he knows her dress will hide any potential marks. Her walls are a tight tunnel around his dick; soft and smooth and better than his hand ever is. He wishes they could see each other all year round, because this is bliss. Effie can barely think as he pounds into her, his teeth grazing her collarbone as he asserts his claim to her body. She thinks she'll never let anyone else have her ever again; she does belong to him.

With a few well-angled thrusts, his pubic bone grazing her clit, and sloppy kisses, Haymitch sends Effie over the edge and soon follows, spilling his seed inside her pulsing wall. He rolls into his side, his left arm around her as she turns to face him, right leg hooked over his thigh. She smiles happily, and enjoys the look of accomplishment on his face. Judging by his sucking on her skin he's left his physical mark on her; but he's already claimed her as his emotionally. She can't even bring herself to care about the love bite; she just wants to smile at him forever.

Haymitch lazily threads his fingers through her hair, smiling at how damn gorgeous she is. Her chest is coated in a thin sheen and he chuckles softly when he sees the mark he's left on her shoulder. Effie opens her mouth to speak, and he thinks he might just be in trouble again when she says -

"I love you, Haymitch."

He watches as her eyes flicker nervously for a moment - but only for a moment because he's soon returning the words.

"I love you too, Effie."

He feels a huge pressure release from his chest as he finally says it out loud after years of suppressing any romantic inklings. From the wide smile that spreads across her face, he feels like telling her again.

"I love you."

And again, and again, and _again_ until they're tangled in the sheets with marks of his love spattered across all parts of her body that her dresses will hide.

At some point they fall asleep, but, always the planner, Effie's alarm wakes them up with plenty of time to go for another round and still be able to get their masks on for the Tribute's Parade.

In the elevator on the ride down from the training centre, Haymitch asks her how she wants to play their public relationship tonight. She replies that she'll be pissed off at him, to continue on from this morning, and slaps him just as the elevator doors open. He doesn't miss the smirk that briefly crosses her face before she turns to go and chatter with one of the other escorts. He makes his way over to Chaff, who is holding out a glass to him.

"Nice show you two just put on," his friend mutters as he hands him the glass.

"You shut up," Haymitch growls, but then laughs as he takes a mouthful of the stuff.

~.~

In the Capitol crowd, waiting to observe the chariots, Haymitch seeks out Effie but can't find her. She told him she was going to sit with the escort from two, who is looking to retire. A few years back he'd have been worried that she would leave him and try to take that job, but he knows she won't now. The careers' chariots start racing down between the roaring crowds, and as he glances at the close ups he has to suppress a chuckle at the feminine makeup on one of the male's faces. Halfway through the tributes it occurs to him that he hasn't even thought about Katniss and Peeta for the last few hours, and that he has no idea what Cinna - he thinks it's Cinna, he's never met the man - has designed for them. He's thinking they'll be miners as usual, but when they come blazing out even he has to suppress an excited shout.

Effie is jumping up and down with the crowd, her enthusiasm not faked for the first time in years. Cinna has truly done an amazing job - she's met him and Portia a few times before these games, and would almost call them friends - and she can't believe how lucky they are to have him.

Afterwards, when she battles through the crowds to make it to backstage, she finds Haymitch standing alone, and squeals happily at him.

"Oh, Haymitch! How incredible was that?" She grasps his arm excitedly.

"I thought you were angry at me," he replies with a careful glance at nearby peacekeepers.

"Oh, who cares about that!" Effie gives a wave of her hand, thankful that he's always on alert. "They were on fire!" She exclaims, and then adds for any eavesdroppers, "They're so brave!"

He enjoys her enthusiasm; he hasn't truly seen her this happy over anything to do with the games in years; and while that's a good thing, he likes this excuse to be happy in public.

"You're so hot it's like you're on fire... You're brave," he replies with an idiotic grin.

Effie's jaw drops and she has to clasp a hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. "I didn't know you could be cheesy, Mr. Abernathy."

"I have my moments," he says with a soft smile.

At that moment, Peeta and Katniss return and they make their way over to where Cinna has just praised their performance.

"Oh! We are all anybody's going to be talking about!" Effie exclaims as she reaches them, unable to stop smiling at the pair.

"So brave," Haymitch says with a pointed look directed at Effie. She catches his gaze for a moment before breaking away.

Katniss must think he was insulting her because she replies, "Are you sure you should be near an open flame?"

"Fake flame," he retorts. "Are you sure you..."

He trails off, feeling uneasy at the cold stare one of the careers is sending him. Never mind him being more than twice this kid's age, the career tributes never fail to disgust and scare him. He hopes that this boy hasn't just targeted his tributes. As much as he dislikes Katniss, he doesn't want to see her dead.

"Let's, uh, let's go upstairs," he suggests, letting Effie take over the lead as he drops back to congratulate the stylists on their work. And to admire Effie's ass as she walks in front of him.

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**Please review, it would cheer me up so much.**


	7. Dreams So Real

**So sorry for taking so long with this chapter! I've been extremely busy lately. Exams, work, tonsillitis, socialising, lady gaga... it's been crazy. This chapter is extra long to make up for the wait. So, um, please don't hate me for taking so long. :)**

**This chapter contains sex, fluff and book!canon because I wanted to include the Avox thing, as well as bring Cinna and Portia into this story a bit more. Yes, it's mostly Hayffie but I'm working on a few sub-plots to keep it interesting.**

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Chapter 7: Dreams So Real

On the elevator ride up to their floor, Haymitch's view of Effie's behind is obstructed by their tributes and he quietly grumbles to himself, wanting nothing more than to take her against the elevator wall. If they were alone, that is.

"Come on," Effie says as they exit the elevator, her voice adopting the sing-song quality that Haymitch now recognises as fake. "So this is the living room... I know. I _know_!"

She notices that Haymitch is watching her intently and she forces herself to focus on their tributes lest she becomes distracted. Katniss and Peeta are looking around in awe, and Effie finds herself smiling when she sees their eyes light up with happiness. She tells them where their rooms are and suggests that they clean themselves up before dinner as she walks towards her room. She's almost at her door when a strong hand is grabbing her arm and spinning her around. Haymitch kisses her roughly, pushing her up against the wall, his hands immediately cupping her breasts. She kisses him back for a second and then remembers where they are. Pushing him away from her she looks at him with wide eyes, trying to appear angry for anyone watching them.

"Haymitch!" She hisses through clenched teeth. "The cameras!"

"Oh, right, I haven't told you yet," he murmurs with a smile. "They're only recording sound in here, no video... and I'm not sure if they even record the hallways, probably just the living room. So they won't hear us if we're quiet."

"How do you know this?" Effie whispers, bringing a hand up like she's about to slap him because she doesn't quite believe that they're not being watched.

Haymitch chuckles, pressing his hips against hers, his dick growing hard against her left thigh. "I have contacts in high places... now drop your hand and kiss me."

Seeing the intensity in his eyes, Effie brings her hand to his face, but only so that she can drag his lips back to hers. She grinds against his leg as best she can in her tight skirt, feeling his erection pressing into her, triggering a fluttering sensation between her legs. Haymitch's hands roam her chest and down over the peplum skirt to grope her ass as their lips mesh together. His tongue brushes against hers repeatedly, unable to restrain his desire as he ravishes her mouth. She moans quietly as tingles shoot through her spine from his caresses and she drags her fingers through his long hair, tugging on the ends as her arousal increases.

Haymitch tears his mouth from hers and presses sloppy kisses down her jaw and neck, smearing her creamy makeup in the process. He's gripping her ass tightly, grinding hard against her and muffling his moans against her skin as pleasure shoots through his cock from the contact. He knows they should probably move into her bedroom, but he's too caught up in kissing the tops of her breasts to do anything about it. He drags his tongue along her soft skin, taking pleasure in every inch of her perfect breasts, smiling when he hears her breath hitch.

"Bedroom, Haymitch," Effie manages to gasp out, removing her hand from his head to grope to her right for the doorknob.

Reluctantly he releases his hold on her so that she can shuffle towards the door to her room and move inside. He shuts the door with his foot and instantly guides her back towards the bed, nearly tripping over in the process. He lands atop her and an unladylike grunt leaves her lips.

"Sorry!" Haymitch mutters, burying his face in her breasts again. "You have fuckin' perfect tits, Trinket," he can't help but tell her.

She giggles, her hands sliding over his shoulders and reaching to peel off his jacket. "Thanks, Abernathy."

He feels his cock twitch when she calls him that, a reminder of their first years working together when their sniped surnames would be insulting. He kisses his way back up to her mouth, quickly removing his coat, vest and shirt for the second time today as he hovers above her. Spreading his legs on either side of her, he removes his lips from hers with a grin and easily flips her onto her stomach. Effie laughs and turns her head to look at him as he undoes the zip completely this time. Effie pulls off her wig, messing up her hair in the process and simply smiles at him, watching as he absently licks his lips whilst undoing her dress.

The escort lets him wriggle the metallic dress off her, leaving her underneath him in just her underwear. Haymitch catches her eye with a smirk before he lowers his mouth to her back, kissing down her spine to the top of her black underwear. She continues to watch over her shoulder as he peels her silken panties over her ass before sweeping his hand between her cheeks and over her pussy lips. She gasps as his fingers graze her swollen clit for a brief moment before he's gripping her thighs and pulling her back onto all fours. He reaches to undo his pants and free his throbbing cock. While rubbing his left hand over the precum-covered head of his manhood, he gently probes her warm folds with his right hand, slipping a finger inside her dripping pussy.

"Ohh," moans Effie as he adds a second finger, pumping them inside her pulsing core. She lets her head fall forward, her hair falling around her face as his fingers stretch her walls in preparation for his large member.

Haymitch chuckles deeply, sliding his fingers over the tip of his cock a few more times before removing his fingers from her pussy and positioning himself at her entrance. He groans, seeing her glistening pussy peeking out between her ass cheeks and with one gentle thrust he's buried inside her to the hilt.

"Shit, Eff," he moans, gripping her hips as he hears her moan in sync with him.

He starts a slow rhythm, thrusting deep inside her core each time and letting her tight walls envelop his cock. The escort rocks her hips back towards his as he fucks her from behind, his dick filling her up completely. She's supporting herself on her hands and knees, and it's like Haymitch has read her mind when she feels one of his hands leave her hip to undo her bra and push the straps from her shoulders. She lets the bra fall to the bed, her breasts hanging freely beneath her, rocking backwards and forwards as her lover pounds into her pussy from behind.

Haymitch wants to feel more of her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her up so her back is pressing into his chest. His lips drop to her neck, kissing and sucking over her soft skin, adding to the love bites he's previously left on her perfect body. His hands find her breasts, caressing them as he rams up inside her. The angle of his thrusts changes and he finds his dick almost constantly buried inside her wet pussy, her arousal increasing exponentially.

"Oh fuck, Haymitch," Effie moans, grinding down onto his dick, gasping as the pleasure builds inside her.

They're both kneeling on the bed, Effie's back sliding against Haymitch's chest, her ass rubbing against his thighs, his rigid cock continually pounding up into her slippery pussy. His fingers massage her supple breasts, tweaking and circling her hard nipples and sending soft tingles throughout her chest. Her left hand falls to his side, sliding over his powerful thighs, feeling the muscles tense and relax as they rock together. Her other hand finds her swollen clit, two fingers circling the sensitive nub in an anticlockwise direction, making her gasp and gasp again. Haymitch is kissing her shoulder tenderly, clenching his teeth to hold back his climax until she's reached hers.

Effie feels like she's on fire; he's touching all the right places, sending ever-increasing lusty sensations throughout her body that seem to converge at her core. She's seconds from orgasm, and one quick nip at her skin and a particularly strong thrust from Haymitch sends her over the edge. She loses herself in the intensity and cries out in pleasure; one of his hands quickly comes up to muffle her cries as she falls backward against him, back arching and chest heaving as she peaks. He feels her arousal dripping down over his cock, and he thrusts up once, twice more before cumming deep inside her.

"Ohhh," she moans against the rough palm of his hand, smiling as his other arm slides down her body to wrap protectively around her hips, holding her to him as he orgasms in time with her. She feels light-headed, smiling softly as he kisses her neck.

"Holy Panem, Effs," Haymitch mutters, removing his hand from her mouth to slide along her thighs comfortingly. "You've gotta be quieter."

"I couldn't help myself," she giggles, turning her head to kiss his cheek. "You make me lose control."

He chuckles, pinching one of her nipples affectionately. "As do you, Trinket."

Effie laughs and reaches for his hands, attempting to pry them from her body, but he resists, pressing his palms against her skin and teasing her with his fingers despite her tugging.

"Ha-aymitch," she whines, "I want to lie down, my thighs are sore."

"All you had to do was ask, Miss Manners," he replies with a smirk, releasing his hold on her and letting her untangle herself from him, his dick slipping out of her. Effie flops down onto her back, smiling up at him and motioning for him to join her with her index finger.

He obliges, wondering when it was he became so obedient to this wonderful woman, and lies down next to her so that she can cuddle with him. She told him once that they aren't very affectionate in the Capitol and that she was jealous of the doting mothers and fathers shown on the screens during the games. He'd told her that attachment to others could only end badly, yet had proceeded to let her snuggle against him for the next ten or so minutes.

They lie peacefully together, listening to the sounds of their breathing and occasionally swirling their fingers over the other's skin. He thinks she might have fallen asleep when she speaks his name quietly.

"Haymitch?"

He senses she's about to say something serious, and reminds himself not to say anything stupid. "Yeah, Effie?" he replies softly.

"What are we going to do?" She sounds scared, and he squeezes her side comfortingly, smiles at her when she lifts her head from where it was tucked under his chin to look at him.

"What do you mean?" asks Haymitch, his eyes flickering from side to side as hers start to glisten.

"We love each other... but... we can't let anyone find out... What are - How is this going to work... We can't keep..." She swallows, staring at him uncertainly. "But I don't want to lose you."

Haymitch reaches up to brush that loose strand of hair behind her ear, knowing he should probably tell her of the various rebellious meetings he's had over the past few years in the Capitol, but he doesn't want to put her at risk with knowledge like that. Instead, he says: "One day things might - _will _- be different... and until then, we'll continue like we have all these years. Maybe I'll get my phone fixed so you can call me and pretend to talk about the latest fashions."

Effie sees his reassuring smile and nods slightly, trying not to let her worrying take over. "We could have a code," she suggests with a quiet laugh.

"Yes. Wigs mean your lips, dresses mean your boobs, pants mean your legs... we will have excellent discussions," he jokes, trying to better her mood.

"Haymitch!" Laughs Effie, poking his chest happily. "That's not what I meant."

"I know... oh, and heels can mean my dick. We can have lots of conversations about these _gorgeous_, _large_-heeled shoes," the victor says with a cheeky grin on his face that was much more common when he was younger.

"Oh!" The escort has to cover her mouth with her hand as she laughs, never breaking eye contact with him. "You rude, rude man," she says as she leans in to kiss him softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replies once her lips have left his.

She's about to relax back into his chest when she hears noises outside the door, sounding much like muffled talking. Effie jolts upright, realising they never locked the door, and she quickly jumps out of the bed and races to flick the lock. In this time, Haymitch has barely managed to roll over, smirking at the lightning-fast reflexes she possesses; briefly thinks she wouldn't be half-bad in the arena and then mentally kicks himself for such thoughts.

"Cinna and Portia," Effie whispers when she returns to the bed. "We need to get dressed."

"No we don't. We can stay in here, get drunk, they won't notice," Haymitch suggests, reaching an arm out to try and grasp her but she moves out of his range, shaking her head.

Effie sets about pulling her clothes on from where they're scattered around the room. Haymitch sighs and follows suit, watching her from the corner of his eye. She's pursing her lips in disdain over something he doesn't know - he doesn't always get this woman. Somehow she's dressed before him despite her many, complicated layers and is sitting at her vanity table reapplying her makeup.

"So... should I sneak out first or should you?" he asks, watching her perfect her Capitol mask.

"I will. It's my room; I'll get everyone seated at the dinner table and there'll be no chance of anyone seeing you leave... You need to tuck in your shirt," she says, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He does as he's told. "Better?"

Effie shrugs, a habit she picked up on from him, and stands up. "You look acceptable..." He frowns as she continues to talk to him in an almost-cold manner, wondering what is going on; ten minutes ago she was giggling and perfectly happy.

She's about to leave the room when he says, "I love you," in an attempt to make her smile at him again.

"You too... I just don't want to get drunk with you," replies Effie pointedly before slipping out the door.

The victor's brows knit together before he realises that his one flippant comment has yet again hurt her, and he smacks his forehead. He doesn't want their rare time together to be anything but nice.

~.~

Effie's gotten Katniss, Peeta and the two stylists to the table and is making small-talk regarding the wonderful costumes earlier in the day and the promotion she's been doing for their tributes. She'd talked up their fiery tributes to the various Capitol citizens who stopped her in the street or talked to her at the parade, and had come up with a stupid line about coal being turned to pearls under enough pressure.

"Really? Coal can turn to pearls? I didn't know that!" Cinna says warmly, and she appreciates his friendliness when she knows that she must sound so stupid right now. But that's what the Capitol's Effie Trinket is: stupid.

"Yes, it really can! I read about it in..." she trails off as Haymitch walks up the stairs, his hair looking brushed and his clothes immaculate. She realises her jaw has dropped slightly, and quickly snaps, "You don't look barbaric. Lovely."

Haymitch chuckles at her sarcasm and sits next to her at the table. Effie pretends to look annoyed but she discretely brushes her foot along his calf when everyone's distracted by serving themselves food. He's nicely-groomed and she assumes the reason behind it is her. She'll need to thank him later, because although it doesn't seem like much, it means a lot to her. Effie finds Cinna and Portia are very easy to talk to, and she enjoys the conversation, especially since she and Haymitch can be polite to each other during it without it seeming odd. She's just popped a blue grape into her mouth when Katniss starts asking the Avox serving them questions, and when Katniss exclaims _Oh! I know you!_, Effie just about chokes on the round fruit.

She recovers quickly, a feeling of dread instantly spreading through her system from what the young girl has just said. "Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" She snaps, hoping to convey the danger of Katniss' sentence through her tone. "The very thought."

"What's an Avox?" asks Katniss, glancing between the adults and Peeta. The stylists just happen to be chewing, and Effie takes a mouthful of her wine so Haymitch answers, his leg bumping Effie's like he's reminding her to stay in character.

"Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak. She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her."

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order," adds Effie, glancing at Haymitch and seeing the same worry reflected in his eyes. "Of course, you don't really know her."

Haymitch watches Katniss carefully, the girl's emotions easy to read from her expression and he wonders how exactly she knows this Avox. Thankfully, Peeta's quick to lie and say, "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is. I kept thinking she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly," and Haymitch starts to think that he'll do very well winning the Capitol's heart.

~.~

Later, after the tributes are sent to bed and the adults have discussed the various aspects of their tactics this year, as well as the Avox issues at the table, in hushed voices, Effie bids them all goodnight and makes for her room. She thinks that Cinna is definitely against the Capitol like she is; he makes a few choice remarks which could be taken either way; he's very clever. Part of her thinks he might even see through the near-perfect lie that she and Haymitch have created for themselves.

She's just pulled her silk nightgown over her head when there's a soft knock at her door. She pads over to it, her toes sinking into the plush carpet, and opens the door to come face to face with Haymitch. He immediately leans forward to whisper directly into her ear.

"Can I sleep in here?"

Effie thinks for a moment before nodding and allowing him inside. She shuts and locks the door again, before turning to face him. He's removing his clothes, looking tired. "Thank you... for cleaning yourself up..."

Haymitch pauses in unbuttoning his pants and looks up at her with a smile. "Anything for you."

"I really, really appreciate it. Thank you."

Effie leans up on tip-toes to kiss him softly, her fingers lacing around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair, before allowing him to finish undressing and join her in bed. They agree without words that they're too tired for sex, instead she curls back into his warm embrace, her body fitting perfectly against his.

"I really thought Katniss would fuck up at dinner," he mutters, closing his eyes, feeling exhausted.

"Me too. The damn girl cannot hide her emotions at all," whispers Effie in frustration, pressing the button on the remote to turn off the lights.

Haymitch chuckles when she swears and he kisses her shoulder gently. "You need to be careful, though, Eff... Let me handle any of Katniss' mistakes..."

"What do you mean? All Capitol citizens know about Avoxes and that you're not meant to associate with them..._ else they'll cut out your tongue too_," Effie replies.

"_Huh_?" comes Haymitch's sleepy reply.

"Oh, just something my mother used to tell me when I was little," Effie says, pulling the soft blankets up around them.

"I thought you were all brainwashed idiots... no offence."

The escort is silent for a few moments, thinking over the implications of their statements. "I never thought of it that way... maybe everyone is just a good liar."

"Hmmm..."

"Cinna is a good liar."

"Yes... he is," Haymitch says through a yawn.

"And Portia too, maybe."

"Yes."

"Oh, did I tell you what I said to Esmer - "

"Effie?"

"Yes, Haymitch?"

"Stop thinking and go to sleep. It's late," Haymitch snarls, but kisses the back of her head to show he doesn't mean it.

"Sorry."

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**Review please? Tell me what you liked/disliked, send me cookies, whatever you want. :)**


	8. To Build A Home

**I managed to get through and entire day in this chapter - which brings the timeline of this story to three days so far, lol. The song Effie sings to Haymitch is from the movie _Waitress,_ ****which is a wonderful film that I would definitely recommend. I'm not saying that Effie saw this movie though, because it's not exactly the kind of movie one would watch in the Capitol, but, I thought it was a fitting song for her to sing.  
**

**This fic is now definitely a mixture of book and movie canon, so hopefully it doesn't get too confusing. :)**

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Chapter 8: To Build A Home

Haymitch is living amongst the dead, brightly coloured birds and coal-dust covered Seam folk featuring heavily in this world. The echoing screams of his blonde ally compete with the president's threats for control of his mind. There's no escape in dreaming, he long ago lost the ability to wake himself up (not that it was ever worth it, the silence and shaking rivaled the horrors of his subconscious); learnt he had to drown himself in booze to try and black out for most of the night. There's a girl in front of him, split in two by the axe he'd let rebound from the edge of hell, and he wonders whether she truly deserved to die for him to live. He's no better than the rest of them, killing to save his own life, what right does he have to live? He looks up to the false-sky and screams louder than the announcer saying he's won -

Victor? He thinks of himself as a murderer, a fool, a pawn.

He's just watched Maysilee's death, and now he's watching it again and again, his brain replaying the moment to torture him. But, he realises there's another noise mixing with her screams; a calm, worried voice whispering his name louder and louder until he wakes.

"Haymitch," Effie breathes, "You're shaking..."

Haymitch's vision comes into focus and he sees her looking at him with furrowed brows, her palm gently cupping his cheek and he's aware that his torso is convulsing, feels a sheen of terrified sweat on his skin. He wraps his arms around her, drawing her safely to his chest, her warm body immediately soothing him. She's turned the lights onto dim, and he's thankful because it's harder to hide from memories in the dark.

Effie cuddles into him tightly, letting him hide his blurry eyes in her hair. He'd long since given up acting brave upon waking from a nightmare and now listens to her soothing voice talking nonsense. He realises she's singing - not very well and not very loudly, but she is.

_Baby, don't you cry, gonna make a pie, gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle._

The escort kisses his neck softly, hoping she's made him feel safe - well, as safe as one can be in their country.

"What's that song from?" Haymitch asks, removing his head from the crook of her neck to rest on the pillow, his nose almost touching hers.

"Oh, it's from a movie I saw a few months ago at the cinema."

"What's a cinema?" he replies, twirling a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger.

"You don't - ," the confused look leaves Effie's face as quickly as it appears. "It's a giant television screen where an audience can watch the latest film. You pay for a ticket, of course, and usually get popcorn as a snack."

"I've had popcorn once. Stupid food. Completely ruins the nutritional value of corn," Haymitch mutters.

Effie giggles softly; he truly is from District Twelve when his first thought is about survival compared to her warped mind's desire for the buttery taste. She doesn't know why she's laughing since it's such a horrible reflection of the wrongs of their world; maybe because she tends to laugh stupidly around him, maybe because she hasn't had enough sleep.

"Oh, Trinket," Haymitch says affectionately. "Go back to sleep, you need it. I'll be okay."

"Not until you do," she replies, her laughs fading into a caring smile.

"Fine," he replies, leaning in to kiss her lips softly before wriggling around a bit, relaxing his hold on her so she can get comfortable, and closing his eyes.

When he wakes again it's to the sound of her alarm and he notices he didn't dream a thing; then notices her cleavage right in his face as she leans over him to turn off the shrill beeping.

"Mm, good morning," he leers at her chest, his strong hands grasping her around her petite ribcage.

"Haymitch!" she giggles, half on top of him and held up by his hands as his lips pepper kisses to the tops of her breasts, his stubble tickling her skin. "I don't have time for this!"

"One more minute," he bargains, licking her supple skin as her hands tug at his wrists. "I promise I won't curse your early-as-fuck alarm during the day."

She sighs and relaxes as he goes to town on her chest, peeling down her nightgown to bare her "trinkets" as he refers to them, to his deliciously sloppy mouth. After a minute or so he stops kissing her and allows her to leave the bed. Evident by the pout on his swollen lips his plan to tempt her to remain in bed has failed.

"Did you really think you were that talented to make me ignore my schedule?" The escort teases, pulling her nightgown over her head and tossing it at him, ignoring the desire he's ignited inside her.

"Ah, you wound me with your words," the mentor laughs, clutching her silken garment to his chest, gazing upon her naked body.

Effie giggles, "I'm having a shower."

"Can I join?"

"_May_ I join," she corrects habitually. "Fine."

She turns to see him grinning madly and smiles at how boyishly cute he can be sometimes. She called him adorable once, and he cursed her for it so now she simply thinks it.

~.~

"Time to become Capitol Effie Trinket," Effie sighs as she sits down at her vanity, her tight dress pulled on with Haymitch's help.

"You don't need me for that do you?" Haymitch asks, and receives a shaken head in response. "In that case, I'll see you once the transformation is complete, I'm hungry."

He kisses her goodbye and slips out of her room; it's still much too early for the others on their floor to be awake but he can never be too cautious as he sneaks back to his room. He changes from the shirt he wore yesterday to a different shirt, but keeps the same pants, before piling the other layers of clothing on. He's loathe to admit it but he actually quite enjoys the clothes he's wearing and likes the taste he's acquired from Effie. He runs a comb through his hair - it hasn't been this clean since his Victory Tour - and makes his way to the dining room. Peeta almost bumps into him as he leaves his room, and he grunts a greeting to the tribute. They find Katniss already at the table, devouring bread and hot chocolate with a fascination possessed by only those who have been close to starvation-induced death.

Haymitch watches the pair closely, observing their body language towards each other, and from the way Peeta leans in towards Katniss when she speaks, smiles when she says something (anything) and defends her hunting skills, the mentor can tell the boy loves her. Katniss doesn't seem to share his affections, or at least isn't aware that she does, but Haymitch's mind is already whirling with ideas of how to spin this story - that is, if he thinks the pair will have any chance of surviving; he hates destroying his heart on a hopeless tribute.

It's not that he doesn't try to help the kids each year, it's that most of the time they can't be helped.

Katniss and Peeta might be different though; he's seen the girl sneak under the district's fence a few times, and she was seen in The Hob far more often than any other of her female peers so he knows she's tough; and the boy's muscles are visible even as he eats his breakfast. Haymitch will wait until they receive their training scores to truly decide whether he thinks one of them could win, and advises them to keep their strengths a secret while training.

"One last thing," he adds, thinking about the image of unity they've begun to create for their fiery tributes, and of the conversation he had with Effie and the stylists last night. "In public, I want you by each other's side every minute." The teenagers begin to object and he slams his hand on the table, hiding a smirk as he remembers Effie's comment about mahogany on the train. "Every minute! It's not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

He's not surprised when Katniss scowls and stalks back to her room; the girl is very predictable, and he wonders if it's because she's exactly like him. Haymitch takes a mouthful of his coffee; bitter, but not like his alcohol, and watches Peeta's wistful gaze.

"Some effect she's had," he comments, now certain that the baker's boy is in love with the hunter.

Peeta doesn't say anything, simply dips a piece of bread in a large bowl of hot chocolate and eats in silence with his mentor for a few more minutes. He gets up from the table, saying goodbye to Haymitch, just as Effie struts up the stairs towards them.

"Good morning Peeta," she trills.

"Good morning, Effie," replies Peeta courteously.

Haymitch waits for the boy to leave the room before greeting Effie as she sits down beside him. "Hey, Effs."

"Haymitch," she replies, glancing around the room nervously.

"Relax, I already pissed Katniss off back to her room and the Avox isn't around; not that she can talk anyway," he says, slinging his arm around the back of her chair.

Effie purses her lips together. "What did you do to Katniss?"

"Nothing," he says, biting into a piece of toast. "Just told her an' Peeta to always stay together... No idea why."

The escort pours herself a glass of orange juice and neatly cuts the green tops off a handful of strawberries - he has to look away because to him it's still like she's wasting half of the fruit. "Don't talk with your mouth full," she admonishes him. "And of course she's opposed to the idea; the girl is blind. Can't she see that he's in love with her?"

"How do you know that?" he asks, because he's sure he's spent more time around their tributes than she has.

"From the way he looks at her. I had a feeling when I watched them shake hands at the reaping, and after last night I can just tell."

Haymitch chuckles, shaking his head, "Impressive. You might be better at reading people than I am."

"Of course I am, I'm a woman," Effie replies with a teasing smile.

"You sure are," he says, glancing pointedly at her chest. She's wearing a metallic-green dress, surprisingly simple compared to her previous outfits, except for the corset which makes her breasts seem like they're trying to escape.

Effie rolls her eyes at his comment; she's used to his lechery by now, and smirks, speaking lowly because she's still not convinced they're not being recorded. "Oh, do you like my dress?"

"Mmhmm," he mutters, his eyes not leaving her assets.

The escort eats her breakfast, gorging herself on the delicacies she can't afford to eat throughout the year - food can be expensive even in the Capitol - and continually bats the mentor's hand away from her thigh but does nothing for the hand that gently sweeps over her neck. Around ten minutes to ten o'clock, she finishes eating and turns towards Haymitch to discuss their plans for the day.

"I'll see Peeta and Katniss down to the training centre, and then at eleven I'm getting my nails done with a friend... I suppose you'll be seeing Chaff at some stage, correct?"

"I don't usually see him until the afternoon - he'll be passed out - so I'll just stay here and watch whatever crap your Capitol tv is playing," he jokes.

"You will not!" She scolds. "If you're not seeing Chaff, I want you out and about talking about _our _tributes, Haymitch!"

He sighs dramatically. "Whatever you want, Princess."

Effie trails her fingers up his arm, stopping herself when she realises how exposed they are in this room, quickly snapping her hand back to rest in her lap. "We should have lunch together. There's this new cafe on Fountain Boulevard, La Nourriture, it's called. It's meant to be good, _completely crowded_, but we won't have any trouble getting in."

He knows what she means; they won't be overheard.

"La Nurry-what?"

"La Nourriture. It means food in some ancient language apparently. Who knows, it's probably a marketing ploy." Effie says as she finishes off her juice. "I must go, it's almost ten. I'll see you for lunch at say, twelve thirty... then we can walk around the City Circle and spread the word about our tributes on fire."

Haymitch nods, aware that he's like a lap dog when it comes to her, but he doesn't care. "See you at lunch; if I survive the Capitol herds."

She laughs softly, her peals of laughter echoing throughout the room as she descends the stairs to meet the tributes by the elevator.

~.~

He wasn't completely joking when he told Effie he'd be at lunch only if he survived the crowds. They're like moths to a flame, and he's the fire. A thousand questions coming his way, just like every year, requests for photos, autographs, even people who think he's like Finnick Odair and offer him money for sex. He grunts and takes a couple of photos with some kids so as to get their annoying parents away from him, and does his best to be civil to the hundreds of people. _Manners, manners, manners, _rings Effie's voice in his head as he makes a few idle comments about the tributes; hopefully it's enough to spark more interest in the pair that made the grand entrance at the parade, but he doesn't want to give away their game plan just yet. Especially because his ideas about star-crossed lovers are still forming, and depend on whether he thinks Katniss can play the part.

Midday strikes and he starts making his way to the cafe he's to meet Effie. In empty streets the walk would be no more than five minutes, but with the continual assault, it's more like fifty. He finds the place easily enough, and the waitress leads him to the table where the escort is drumming her newly-manicured fingernails on the table as she flicks through a magazine. He sits down across from her and shrugs his shoulders when she looks up at him disdainfully.

"I was attacked by fluffy, colourful creatures out there! It's not my fault I'm late! Do you people even _work _at this time of year?"

Effie carefully places her magazine on the table, folding the corner of the page she was on, and accepts his reasoning. "Not really. It's funny, because this is the time of year when I'm the most busy."

Haymitch pours himself a glass of water and glances around the bustling cafe and back to his partner. "What _do _you do when the games aren't on?" He asks suddenly, having realised he doesn't know.

The escort smiles when she sees the almost-horrified look on his face because he doesn't know this about her. "I do what other escorts do - paperwork, come up with ideas for the next games - although that's really futile when District 12 is concerned," she says sadly. "Mostly I socialise, model for the best designers, do interviews... They did a television program on me once - it was quite fun."

"A television program?" He exclaims whilst fiddling with the menu.

"Yes. I am famous too, you know," she smirks. "A camera crew followed me around for a few days - it was entitled _What Effie does when she's not an Escort._"

"Sounds like shit," Haymitch says bluntly, not caring for the consequences.

"It was," agrees Effie, meeting his eyes with a laugh. "It was completely superficial... Of course, everyone loved it."

"When was this?"

"A few years back... When you and I..." She gives a wave of her hand and he chuckles.

"When we were just fucking?"

Effie gives a tiny nod, nudging his leg with her foot under the table as a waiter comes over to take his order - she ordered before he arrived, she tells him. He hasn't really looked at his menu yet, he's been too busy looking at her. He settles on the chicken sandwich with scallop potatoes; an interesting mix of seafood and poultry, but he's willing to try it. Effie is swirling her index finger around the rim of her glass, her fake sky-blue nails with beads and some sort of floral thing stuck to them looking dangerous.

"Your nails look like they could hurt," he comments, shuffling his chair in closer to the table.

The escort sighs, her breath blowing the ends of her light pink wig. "They're going to be the next big thing, but they're so impractical! I was trying to autograph something before and I couldn't hold the pen!"

"How hard it must be, being the trend-setter of the Capitol," he replies dryly.

"So you _would _ like me to scratch your dick tonight?" She retorts, leaning back in her chair and knowing she won this round.

They continue to banter good-naturedly as they wait for their lunch to arrive. Effie's laughing over something he said about the horrendous costumes seen at the tributes parade when their food is finally brought to their table. She ordered a delicious pasta salad, and asks the waiters for another glass of sparkling water - no alcohol for her if Haymitch isn't having any - when she notices him staring funnily at his plate.

"Is there something wrong?"

"They forgot my scallops!" Haymitch replies indignantly. "Some fancy cafe they are."

Effie bursts out laughing, attracting the attention of the previously-oblivious tables next to them, and he stares at her in confusion.

"Oh, Haymitch. No they didn't. Scallop potatoes are just a style of cooking potato!"

The mentor scowls as the escort continues to giggle, but part of him finds the situation amusing, though he's loath to admit it. "Well, it's a stupid name," he mutters before stabbing his fork into a slice of potato.

~.~

After lunch they walk around the city and Haymitch lets Effie do the talking to the strangers that hammer them with questions. At times she has to cling onto his arm so they don't get separated, and he can't help but smile when she does. She likes being able to be this close to him in public; the throngs of people pushing them together without meaning to. They murmur comments to each other when they can, mostly they focus on their joined arms and on teasing the public about their tributes.

Time slips away from them and before they know it the sun is slipping away and they need to return to the training centre. Effie's thankful for this; her feet are hurting in her ridiculously high pink heels. They cut through some back streets, reluctantly breaking their connection when they're away from the crowds. Haymitch doesn't even care that he hasn't seen Chaff; he's spent the day with Effie and apart from the lack of kissing, they've been able to mostly be themselves.

Dinner with Peeta and Katniss is a quiet affair. The tributes seem tired from their training, and both he and Effie are exhausted from their day. She snaps at him a few times for eating with his fingers, but it was like he was hit with a sleeping pill when they walked through the penthouse's door and he's now feeling too lazy for cutlery. They question the teenagers on what happened, and then tell them to do what they like, with both tributes deciding to go to bed.

"Peeta was too tired to make eyes at Katniss," Haymitch chuckles quietly as he and Effie descend the stairs from the dining room table, the Avox cleaning up behind them. She laughs, accidentally walking into him as she veers off-course on her way to her room, and he smiles, grabbing her gently by the shoulders. "Don't fall over, Eff."

"Thanks," she says, stopping outside her door and suppressing a yawn. "Will you be joining me?"

"Of course. I'm never too tired to make eyes at you," Haymitch teases and kisses her gently on the lips, reluctantly pulling away. "I've wanted to do that all day..."

Effie smiles softly at him, grasping at the hem of his shirt with her ridiculous nails and feeling giddy from his kiss.

"I'll grab my clothes for tomorrow and be back in a minute. Expect more of that." He winks at her before ambling down the hall as she giggles stupidly.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter; it was another long one. Please review and tell me what you thought. As you can now see, there are quite a few of you following this story and that makes me so, so happy, but all I'm asking for is a little bit of feedback so I know that you're enjoying it, or even still reading it!** **Thank you. :)**


	9. Ashes And Wine

**As you can see, I'm not a very fast updater. But here is chapter 9, finally, and I'm hoping to have chapter 10 done in less time. My chapters keep getting longer though, so there's that. I hope you like this! :)**

* * *

Chapter 9: Ashes And Wine

When Haymitch wakes, it's with an untroubled mind and a warm chest. His lips glide along his teeth in a smile as it occurs to him that he didn't have any nightmares; he blinks a few times, letting his vision focus. His eyes land on the mass of soft blonde waves resting over his heart: Effie still sound asleep. Her arm is draped over his body, her fingers loosely resting just under the waistband of his boxers. He runs his hand over the smooth skin of her arm, thinking that he could happily stay like this forever -

A half naked Effie on top of him, and a night without fearful dreams is all he really wants.

Before falling asleep they pulled clothes on just in case someone came knocking. It's happened before; Effie had shoved him into the bathroom and had talked to the tribute through the door, hastily wrapping a dressing gown around herself and nearly scaring the tribute with her Capitol-free face.

Haymitch contents himself with staring at the top of Effie's head and lapsing into a dreamlike state, thinking about all the good moments he's had with her and smiling to himself, his hand still running up and down her arm. He's thinking about what it would be like to go to the beach with her - he's never been, only saw it on his victory tour - and is engrossed by his vision of her jumping waves and doing all things silly. He's imagining them walking along the beach hand in hand and he doesn't notice that he's now looking at her sleepy eyes, not the top of her head, nor does he notice the blaring of the alarm clock.

"Haymitch! Haymitch! Turn off the alarm!" Effie's hissing, blinking at him because he's smiling loopily at her.

"Oh, hey," he says when he comes out of his daydreaming.

"Turn off the alarm!"

He chuckles at her irritation and reaches his arm up to hit the button on the wall and turn the alarm off.

"Where were you just then?" She asks, wondering whether he was having a flashback.

Haymitch smiles at her again, his hand returning to her arm. "I was thinking about going to the beach with you."

"Oh," Effie grins, "That would be wonderful. I've always wanted to go to the beach."

"You haven't been?" He asks incredulously.

She shakes her head, sliding up the bed to kiss him softly. "We could never afford to go."

"Oh... Where exactly does your family sit in the Capitol food chain?"

"Um..." She bites her lip, wiggles it back and forth between her teeth adorably. "Middle class. Both of my parents work... they don't have too much debt compared to most of the people here. And I've been able to help now."

"I never knew the Capitol had it so bad until Pl - until I found out the debt statistics."

Effie nods. "It's terrible. And everyone wastes so much money on fashion... I worked so hard to be an escort because I didn't want to be struggling all my life."

Haymitch is still sliding his hand up and down her arm and he reaches to pull the covers up over her shoulders when she shivers slightly. "And to think I nearly made you quit. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was horrible." Her eyes flicker over his face as she reaches her left hand up to brush her fingers over his stubble.

"You - "

"Don't lie. I was... And I regret that," she says, staring down at him and absentmindedly stroking his scratchy beard. "But I've changed now."

"You have," he affirms with a smile, lifts his head from the pillow to kiss her.

Effie smiles back at him before dropping her head to rest on his shoulder, her forehead pressed against the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling his skin.

"Do we have to get up?" asks Haymitch as he closes his eyes serenely.

"We should," she mumbles. "We need to make sure Katniss and Peeta are ready to face the day."

"Don't wanna," he mutters, holding her tightly against his body.

"Ha-aymitch," she laughs. "We have to!"

"Five more minutes?"

"No-o," she sing-songs. "You'll just fall asleep again."

"You know me too well."

With a huff Haymitch releases Effie from his grip and she kisses his neck softly before untangling herself from him and getting up. He slowly follows after her, grumbling about how he wants to sleep until she shuts him up with a kiss and suggests they shower together. He thinks he could get used to showering with her and wonders how he'll cope back in district 12 without their newfound domesticity.

They grill Katniss and Peeta throughout breakfast, asking the questions they'd been too tired to ask last night. Effie instructs them on etiquette - on what kind of things Capitol people like and Haymitch tells them how to impress the judges but not piss off the other tributes. Both of them stress how important it is to appear a team.

"You have to be solid. You have to be friends," Haymitch tells them. "I don't care if it's fake but you've gotta laugh and do things like -"

"- finishing each other's sentences," Effie adds, smiling into her apple juice.

Haymitch catches her eye for a second before glancing back to the tributes and once again stressing that they mustn't show off their best skills until their private training sessions. Effie gives Katniss a few other tips on how to make herself seem more appealing before she takes them down to the training centre, fussing over their hair like she does with every tribute. She smiles at them and tells them they're doing great before letting them go, receiving a surly glance from Katniss and a weary smile from Peeta.

Effie sighs, wishing she didn't have to act like such a superficial ditz around them. It crosses her mind that she probably doesn't need to because they're likely to die, but then she remembers that Katniss is a horrible actress. She taps her heel on the floor as the elevator brings her back up to the penthouse, suppresses a smile at her impending time alone with Haymitch.

Haymitch sends the avox away, says they won't need her until dinner, and promptly whisks Effie back to the bedroom when the elevator doors open. She's surprisingly compliant and he realises she mustn't have made any plans for her day. He helps her remove her wig, dress and shoes, the same outfit as she wore the day of the tribute's parade.

"Reusing outfits, Effs? I thought that wasn't fashionable," he teases.

"Oh please, I set the trends. I am above the fashion," she laughs, undoing his pants as he sheds his jackets.

He chuckles and grasps her chin, tilting her head up to him. She's tiny without her heels, he almost has to bend his knees to kiss her blue-tinged lips.

"Your makeup is scary without the rest of your outfit," he tells her.

"I thought it was scary regardless?" Effie questions as she sits at her vanity table to remove her makeup with a silk cloth and a bottle of pink-coloured liquid.

"Nah, it makes you look cute," he says endearingly, getting back in her bed.

Effie smiles and continues removing the white layer from her face before joining him under the covers. She quickly falls asleep in his warm embrace and succumbs to the darkness.

* * *

A few hours later Effie wakes again to find Haymitch shaking against her. His whole body is moving like a tremor is running through him and she wonders whether he's having a fit.

"Haymitch!" she exclaims, shaking him until he wakes up to her concerned gaze.

"Eff," he mutters through chattering teeth. "Need... A drink."

She sighs, worrying her lip between her teeth, having been anticipating the appearance of his withdrawal symptoms. "No you don't, darling. You'll feel better in a minute."

"No... Won't," he grunts, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

She kisses his forehead and runs her hand along his arm soothingly, trying to catch his eye. "You will. You're stronger than this."

"Fuck! No! I'm not," he snarls, pushing her hand away and rolling over. He shrugs off her attempts to run her hands over his back and is climbing out of bed when he hears her sniffle. "Damn it, Effie!" He hisses, turning around to face her, halfway out of bed.

"Is there anything I can do?" She asks, staring at him with hopeless wide eyes and brushing away the tears that form.

He groans, his body and mind aching for a drink but he hates seeing her upset, especially when he is the reason. He crawls back onto the bed and roughly grasps her chin, tugging her forward into a harsh kiss. He slides his tongue against hers, their lips pressed roughly together until he pulls away, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth and giving her a feral smile.

"You can distract me," he mutters, pushing her onto her back.

Effie's heart is beating erratically like part of her is afraid of him. He could kill her if he wanted to; if he got too worked up, too distracted. She's tiny and would snap like a twig underneath him; it wouldn't be hard.

She doesn't realise it but she's trembling.

"Fuck!" Haymitch hisses, hovering over her with an expression on his face that she doesn't recognise. "I'm not about to hurt you. I promise."

The primal part of his brain is taking over as he tries to suppress the urge to drink, but he's still able to recognise the signs of fear.

"I love you. Just... Let me lose myself in you."

Effie sees the honesty in his eyes and nods slowly, her body frozen. Haymitch leans down and kisses her gently, his lips like soothing fire, sending heat throughout her and allowing her to move again. He kisses her until she's warm all over. He kisses her until she's relaxed and then he shuffles down the bed until his lips are hovering over her toes.

"Lie still, Effs... I'm going to explore your body. Your very sexy body," he tells her, dropping a kiss to her big toe and smiling when she sighs, all traces of fear gone. He hopes they can forget that incident; he hates it when he starts losing control.

His hands grasp her slender ankle, sliding up and down her smooth skin, so unlike his own scarred legs save for the bruise she suffered on the day of the reaping. It's fading, but he still presses a kiss to the tender mark. Effie exhales, closing her eyes and relaxing as Haymitch makes his way up her left leg, determined to commit her body to memory.

He's very familiar with her already, but finds himself discovering little things that he didn't know before. Her right kneecap has a faint scar on it from falling over as a child when wearing her mother's heels; her left hip is ticklish; the small 'x' on her lower abdomen is from having her appendix out when she was fifteen.

Effie feels herself getting aroused as his lips peruse her body, dangerously close to her core but always skirting around it like the tease that he is. She feels his thumbs circling her hips while his mouth continues upwards, tongue swirling around her navel before reaching her ribs and kissing up the curve to her sternum. Her body thrums with desire and he feels every tremble; each hushed gasp goes straight to his dick, throbbing with want of her.

She sighs softly when his lips start skirting her breasts, peppering kisses all over them. Haymitch smiles against her skin, feeling her chest rise and fall with every quick breath she takes. He likes that he is the one to give her this reaction. Reluctantly he continues kissing higher, over her clavicle, nipping lightly at her skin and grinning when he glides his tongue over the hickeys he gave her the other day.

Effie's eyes open and she smiles when she feels his lips sliding over her neck and jaw. He smiles back at her, thoroughly distracted from wanting a drink, and meets her lips, kissing her slowly. She can't keep still any longer and wraps her legs around his waist, giggling when she feels his erection pressed against her thigh.

"Eff," he mutters, pulling away from her lips. "I haven't finished exploring."

"You can explore later," she pouts, sliding her hand between their bodies and grasping his dick.

"I should... Shit!" he hisses in pleasure as she pumps her hand along his length.

Effie smirks and drags her lips along his jaw to whisper in his ear. "I want you now."

Haymitch's hips buck forward reflexively as she squeezes his cock. He's well aware of how aroused she is, he's been trying to ignore her squirms and gasps so as not to cum on the sheets like a teenager. He's trying to resist but then she nibbles on his earlobe and he loses it, doesn't know why he was resisting in the first place.

He shifts his weight to his left hand, his right one is spreading her thighs and dancing across her slick pussy. Effie gasps, hoping that he isn't merely teasing her, and releases his earlobe from between her teeth. His hand settles on her thigh, thumb stroking circles on her sensitive skin and she's about to complain that he's driving her mental when he eases his cock inside her.

She's on her stomach now, half asleep in a sensual daydream as Haymitch continues to map her body. It's a haze of kisses and caresses to her, she can't distinguish one movement from another because she's thoroughly fucked and on the verge of sleep. She's certain she would fall asleep if not for the playful pinches and nips that he gives her.

There's a soft spattering of freckles in some sort of pattern over her lower back, noticeable only when one's eyes are inches from her skin.

"What are these from?" Haymitch asks, brushing his fingers over her back, his torso pressed against her ass.

"What are what from?" Effie's voice is muffled from the pillow.

"These freckles on your back."

"Oh, I forgot about those! They're from some silly cut-out clothing trend in high school. For a few weeks I had a bird cut out of my school uniform... We all got terrible tan lines and freckles from that."

If she could be bothered she would shake her head at her stupidity. It's one fashion trend she regrets following and she hates the freckles on her skin. She's never liked the body modification trends and thinks of the freckles as a permanent alteration. It's why she wears wigs and doesn't dye her hair; she doesn't like permanent fashion.

"A mockingjay?" he asks, squinting at the faint dots and trying to figure out what kind of bird they form.

"No! Of course not. It was just a non-descriptive bird. I never had thoughts like that in high school!" She twists her head around to glimpse him.

"What changed?"

"I got older... Watched my tributes die... I met you."

Haymitch smiles but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. He wonders what a young Effie Trinket would have been like. He imagines her smiling and without any worries greater than breaking a nail.

Shaking his head, he snaps himself out of these depressing thoughts and lowers his lips to her upper back. He hears her sigh as she closes her eyes.

"I'm going to fall asleep," she murmurs.

He chuckles against her vertebrae. "All we seem to do is sleep."

"It's all the fucking," she laughs. "You tire me out, Mr. Abernathy."

"Ms. Trinket are you admitting that you have less stamina than I do? Less sexual prowess?" Haymitch teases, rolling them to the right and pressing up against her back.

His left hand snakes under her arm to grasp her breast, his cock growing hard from being utterly connected to her body.

"I am not! I have far more stamina than you," Effie replies indignantly, always up for a challenge when it comes to him.

"Prove it," he hisses into her ear, lifting her thigh up so he can enter her from behind. She's slick like melted butter and his length slides inside her so easily it's as if they truly were made to fit each other.

"Oh... I... Will," gasps Effie between strong thrusts from the victor. She grinds her ass against his pelvis, moaning against the palm of his hand as he kisses all over her neck.

Usually less of a submissive partner because she's not fond of losing control, Effie is more than willing to do whatever he wants if it'll stop him from drinking.

* * *

It's not until the fourth phone call in half an hour that Effie wriggles out of bed to answer it. Haymitch had tried to keep her under the covers but she'd snapped that it must be important and had managed to get away. He's becoming a bad influence on her propriety

"Effie speaking," she answers, wondering what's happening and why there have been no messages left on the answering machine.

"Oh, it's you," comes a man's gruff voice down the line.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" she asks, looking at the screen and seeing that the number is blocked.

"Chaff," he replies somewhat impatiently. "I need to see Haymitch right now. Can you get him out of your bed? Thanks."

The victor from district 11 then hangs up the phone on Effie and leaves her frozen and sputtering. She returns to her room and pokes Haymitch sharply, he's already started dozing off.

"Chaff wants to see you," she says while leaning over the bed with a raised hand. "Oh and he wanted me to get you out of my bed," she hisses. "Did you tell him about us?"

Her pitch reaches a level he didn't think possible and he raises his arms in defence. "I didn't tell him! He's just very perceptive."

Effie raises an eyebrow, stands with her hands on her hips like she doesn't quite believe him. She trusts him enough to know that he's not lying but there's every possibility that he has said something to Chaff while drunk and doesn't remember. Haymitch pushes himself out of bed and faces her, looking down at her and almost smiling at her attempts to be intimidating - futile when she's mostly naked and tiny without her heels.

"I promise. I didn't say a word to him about us... and you can trust him, he won't tell anyone else." He takes a few steps towards her and places his hands on her forearms to reassure her.

"Are you sure?" she asks, worrying her lip.

"I am." He nods, dipping his head to kiss her forehead. "Our secret is safe with him."

"Okay," she replies but she doesn't sound certain.

"I'll be back for dinner," Haymitch tells her, breaking away so he can get dressed.

"I think I'll go and see if one of my friends wants to have lunch. Perhaps Cornelia," says Effie as she too starts to get dressed.

"Who's Cornelia?"

"She owns a boutique on the avenue. She was briefly the stylist for district four but hated the restrictions on design. Shame, really, she quit right before Finnick's year and that would have helped her career a lot."

"Oh yes, what a shame that she wasn't around to style the boy that had to murder other children," Haymitch says, mocking her accent.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Yeah... Whatever, sorry," the victor mutters and leans in to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight."

Effie gives him a lackluster nod and hopes that the price of his sobriety isn't too high. A few moments later she needs help zipping up her dress and walks out into the corridor to see if Haymitch is still around. She sees him, standing by the bar and watches silently. Instead of drinking, however, he splashes whiskey on his shirt and that confuses her further. She tiptoes back to her room before he can see her and wrestles with both the zipper on her dress and with her theories about why Haymitch did that.

* * *

"Trinket's mad at you," Haymitch tells Chaff as they exit the training centre.

"Why?"

"Because... you interrupted our strategy planning," he says carefully, ignoring the people swarming around the entrance.

"She'll get over it. I'm not about to tell anyone your strategies," Chaff replies.

"Why would you know our strategies anyway?"

"Because you're a good friend and are going to tell me them. How long have you two been... Planning?"

Haymitch glances around and wrinkles his nose, wondering whether to tell Chaff the truth. "A few years," he says.

"Huh," the dark skinned victor seems shocked. "Longer than I expected... Are they good strategies you're planning?"

Haymitch chuckles, wrapping an arm around Chaff's shoulders. "They're excellent strategies. Brilliant strategies!"

Chaff laughs obnoxiously, drawing more attention from the Capitol citizens, but to everyone they just seem like two drunk men.

"I'm happy for ya. It's about time you had some good strategies!"

* * *

Effie's fingers reach for the phone to dial her friend Cornelia, but as she's scrolling through the address list Cinna's name shows up and she decides she'd much rather have lunch with him. She dials the number for his studio, knowing he's more likely to be there than at his own apartment.

"Portia speaking."

"Oh, hello Portia. It's Effie. Is Cinna available or is he too engrossed in designing?"

Portia laughs softly. "He's, um, out at the moment. Can I take a message?"

"I was just wondering if he was available for lunch."

"Sorry, he'll be busy for the next few hours."

emAnd so will Haymitch.../em

"No problem. Are you available for lunch?" Effie asks politely.

"That would be lovely," Portia says.

"Great! I'll come and pick you up!" trills Effie.

"See you soon."

She hangs up the phone with a suspicious mind, wondering just where Haymitch has disappeared to with alcohol splashed on his shirt, and why Cinna also happens to be busy at the same time. She shakes her head, it's unlikely the two are connected; she's just being silly.

* * *

The rebel meeting takes place in the abandoned construction site of a hotel. Like the ventures of many Capitol citizens, their money often runs out and in the case of this hotel, investors pulled out of the deal before the building was even built. People who live in the Capitol aren't going to pay to stay in a hotel and visitors from the districts are rare.

"Haymitch! Are you listening?"

The victor lifts his head from the table to find everyone's faces pointed in his direction. It's a funny sight, two dozen people - Capitol citizens and drunken victors alike - huddled around a wobbly table and trying to make their meeting look like a gathering of friends. Their chosen location hazardously surrounds them and Haymitch wonders whether an unsecured steel beam will come crashing down on his head.

"What?" he mutters, having tuned out of the conversation when Plutarch started reading a letter from Coin. Haymitch has never met the District 13 leader but he despises her already.

Plutarch sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes. "I was just saying that I liked your tributes' chariot entrance. The touch of rebellion was brilliant."

There are reluctant nods from the other mentors present; while they're all rebels, they still want their tributes to be the best.

Haymitch smiles and takes a swig from his bottle of whiskey. "Thank you. I thought so too."

He's not even close to drunk but he has to keep up an air of intoxication even around these people. One can never be too trusting, and so he slumps his head back onto the table and grins at Plutarch's huffing.

Once the gamemaker has updated everyone on the general happenings in District 13, which isn't much right now, some of the rebels leave the construction site and only those with whom Plutarch wants a private word with remain.

"How's Effie?" Finnick whispers as he drops into the seat next to Haymitch. They're both waiting their turns to speak with Plutarch, who is currently conversing with Cinna. Haymitch's eyebrows had nearly joined his hair when he saw their new stylist at the meeting.

"Pissed off at me probably. Or obsessing over her schedule," he comments nonchalantly.

"Did you not satisfy her this morning?" The younger victor wiggles his eyebrows and Haymitch suppresses his shock.

"I - nothing is going on," he snarls, trying not to worry that yet another person has figured it out.

"Whatever you say," replies Finnick with a laugh.

"Fuck off, Odair."

The younger victor doesn't move, instead he leans in to whisper to Haymitch. "If you're worried about why I know it's because Effie told me - "

"She what?" Haymitch exclaims, suddenly pissed off.

"Well not outright but - "

Finnick doesn't finish his sentence because Haymitch is shoving himself up from his chair and storming from the room. Plutarch shouts after him and receives only a flipped finger in return.

After walking for half an hour along a main road and scowling at anyone who looks at him, Haymitch is still another hour's walk from the training centre and curses himself for leaving. He's missed the car ride back with Chaff and he's realised that he can't even confront Effie about telling Finnick because he wasn't meant to be seeing Finnick today.

"Fuck!" he swears and takes a swill from his rapidly-depleting whiskey bottle. He sticks his arm out to get a taxi, turning on his charming smile so he won't have to pay the fare.

He finds Effie at the dinner table with Peeta and Katniss and she gives him a curt nod as he sits down at the end, dropping his whiskey bottle onto the glass with a clang. He sees Effie purse her lips together and smirks, em Good. Be annoyed. You told Finnick about us./em

"How was training?" He asks Peeta, knowing he won't get an answer from Katniss.

"Good... But there are some tributes who are really... talented."

"They're careers," Haymitch says with a snarl. "Do you know what that is?"

"From district one," Katniss says sullenly.

"And two. They train in a special academy until they're eighteen, then they volunteer. By that point they're pretty lethal."

"But they don't receive any special treatment. In fact, they stay in the exact same apartment as you do. And I don't think they let them have dessert. And you can!" Effie adds, wanting to roll her eyes at the dumb words leaving her mouth.

"So how good are they?" Peeta asks quietly.

Haymitch shrugs. "Obviously they're pretty good. They win in almost every year but - "

"Almost," Effie interjects before he can scare their tributes. He's in a right foul mood at the moment and she wonders whether it's from drinking or something else. He did seem a bit reluctant to go out with Chaff.

Haymitch shrugs and stabs at his food. The meal's a bit bland, but he thinks he might have numbed his tongue with all the whiskey he drank on the way back. Peeta once again starts praising Katniss' shooting skills and Haymitch wants to scream at the boy to just kiss her already. He doesn't get the chance to because Peeta is storming off, closely followed by Katniss.

"Those two love being melodramatic almost as much as you do," he tells Effie once they're alone.

She looks him up and down, pursing her lips and deciding not to give that comment any thought. "You're drunk."

"Just a little."

The escort returns to eating her meal in silence, trying to hide her hurt and disappointment at his drinking. Haymitch can tell she's upset, but he blames her for making him angry, blames himself for getting caught up in these rebellious plans which will probably get him killed. He doesn't take another sip of the whiskey, is already dreading the withdrawal symptoms that are sure to increase after this bout.

"Goodnight Haymitch," Effie's soft voice cuts into his thoughts and he looks up from his knife to see her standing and giving him a weak smile.

"Eff - "

"Goodnight," she repeats, this time more firmly.

She starts down the stairs and he finds himself racing after her. He grabs her arm before she finds the bottom step and she nearly falls over, except that he steadies her against his chest.

"Will I see you tonight?" He whispers, all deep voice and alcoholic breath.

"I - "

"I know I've been drinking... But... I only see you a few weeks each year. Please."

Effie turns to face him, her blue lips turning into a garish smile. "Okay."

He smiles back at her and they walk silently to her room, stopping by his to grab his clothes for the next day and to mess up his bed like he's been sleeping in the sheets. When the kids are in the arena they might spend a few nights at her apartment, where they can be less paranoid. He likes her place, it's nicely furnished and so very Effie. She has a cat that comes and goes, as well as a handful of stray geese that seem to fly in from the local pond and inhabit her street for days at a time.

Both of them push their conflicting emotions to the side and curl up together under the covers, pretending that everything is alright.


	10. Your Bones

**A/N: This has yet to be read by my beta readers but I wanted to post it before I went away to China tomorrow. So if any parts aren't great, they'll be fixed up eventually. [Insert apology for the slow update, but you should all know by now that I don't do fast updates and it's even a miracle I'm still writing this. :P] I'll be back in two weeks so please leave me some nice feedback to return to? This chapter is long and smutty so I think you'll all like it. :)**

* * *

Chapter 10: Your Bones

Curled up tightly under the covers, limbs clutching limbs and foreheads pressed tightly together, all sense of anger, of hurt, is void. One of Effie's ankles is locked between his, her body in a position she surely wouldn't be able to sleep in if she wasn't so exhausted. In sleep, with the muscles in their faces relaxed, neither of them hiding anything; they look like they don't have a care in the world.

Their alarm soon changes that.

Haymitch bolts upright, the shrill noise having scared him from his deep slumber. He looks around wildly, sees Effie groggily blinking her eyes beside him, and reaches over her to slam his hand down on the button to turn off the ringing sound.

"Five more minutes," Effie mumbles, and Haymitch wonders whether they've switched bodies.

"No, get up. It's the kids' last day of training and we need to make sure they don't waste any of it," he says. His mind is surprisingly clear; he was expecting withdrawal symptoms and was not expecting Effie to be anything but her perky self.

"Mmph, okay," she replies, her voice muffled by her pillow.

He glances over her body, anger once again taking over as he remembers that she told Finnick about them without his permission. He pushes himself up and shuffles into the bathroom to relieve his bladder and get rid of his pesky morning wood. As much as he wants to shag her rotten because she always looks so adorable when she's sleepy, he's still upset and hurt that she broke his trust.

When the escort finally sits up, her body feels tired like it's the end of the day and not the beginning. She presses the button on the bedside table for a glass of water, and sips on the cool liquid as she listens to Haymitch moving around the bathroom. He's about to get into the shower when he realises he can't hear anything from Effie, and wrenches the bathroom door open to check she's awake.

"Effie!"

She jolts, spilling water on herself, and snaps. "What?"

"Just checking you're awake," he says, wondering if this is what she feels like when she's trying to get him to move his usually lazy ass.

"Well, I am. And I'm wet," she replies grumpily.

He chuckles; noticing that her white singlet is now see-through at the front. He finds his dick getting hard again, knows she can clearly see it, and decides to ignore his anger at the moment.

"Come shower with me, then you'll truly be _wet_."

She doesn't miss his double entendre and giggles despite her mood. She puts her glass down and forces herself out of bed, licking her lips at the sight of his erection. She's not sure why she's suddenly tired and in a bad mood; it might just be residual from the night before. She was so upset when he returned drunk, but she hid it as best she could because she was sick of pleading with him to stop drinking only for him to break his promises to try.

He has her pressed up against the glass in less than a minute, her singlet still on and completely soaked as he lifts her left leg over his hip and slides his cock inside her. She bites down on his earlobe, twisting it between her teeth and giggling when he responds by pinching her nipple. The glass is cool behind her back; her front hot from rubbing against his chest. Leaving their negative emotions behind, the pair let themselves fall into the bliss of making love in a steam-filled room. Effie programs the water to smell like jasmine, knowing from experience that this scent doesn't linger too long on the skin - they don't need to be going around smelling the same – while Haymitch teases her breasts through her top and grinds his cock deep inside her.

"Fuck me, that smells good," he mutters against her chest.

She laughs throatily, dragging her fingers through his wet hair and gasping as he lifts her right leg off the floor too. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit as he presses her even more firmly between his body and the shower wall. Unable to do much but moan and bite her lip as he makes her body tingle in delicious ways, Effie lets her eyes close and gives in to Haymitch's dominance. With his lips on her breasts, hands on her ass and cock slamming inside her, he has her orgasming in minutes. She shudders in pleasure and gasps his name against his forehead and he squeezes her ass tightly, rotates his hips in circles for a few tantalising moments before he too is cumming and moaning her name.

* * *

Effie's all dolled up for the day, wearing a maroon dress – tight with puffy sleeves and a plunging neckline – paired with a violet wig and a black headpiece. She's had this outfit planned for weeks, like all of her Games outfits, and finds that it matches her mood perfectly. She's happy right now but she's not sure how long that will last given Haymitch's recent behaviour. She knows he's struggling with withdrawal, but she hates that he immediately turns to alcohol when it gets to be too hard; wishes he'd come to her instead.

The bathroom door opens and Haymitch enters her room, leering at her behind as she bends towards her vanity mirror, doing up the clasp of a chunky red necklace. He grins, walking towards her and stopping behind her.

"I like your dress," he says, pouting a little when she straightens herself and turns to face him.

"Thank you. You know I might just forgive you for drinking yesterday," she says softly, looping her arms around his neck with a smile.

Rather than smile back, Haymitch's face turns hard. "You don't know how bloody hard it is."

He steps back from her, pulling her arms forcefully from where they were looped around his neck, watching as her face falls.

"Chaff was drinking and I - I," _needed it to get through the meeting,_ "have a public image to maintain," he says bitterly.

Effie is quiet for a moment, studying the way his nose twitches as he stares at the floor. "You didn't have to actually drink."

_You could just douse yourself in alcohol like before you left._

"Fuck, Eff it's not that simple!" he exclaims, his hands slapping his sides, pain creeping across his face.

"I," she sighs, not wanting to start their day off with a fight. "I... I wish it was."

"Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you but it's not. Life isn't some fucking fairytale where all your princess wishes come true. Life is hard."

She clenches her jaw, resisting the urge to hit him, and takes a deep breath. "Come now, let's go to breakfast. You're clearly hungry. Peeta and Katniss will be waiting."

"Yes I'm clearly hungry, that's why I'm angry," he mutters under his breath, pulling faces and mocking her accent as he trails after her down the hall.

Effie whirls around to face him as they reach the living room, the television screen playing a reality show called Two Capitol Girls in District Two. "You know what? Fuck you," she hisses so the tributes don't hear.

Haymitch chuckles; happy to have pissed her off because he's still angry with her. "Oh, fuck me? Please do. I love it when you get all hot and - "

"Shut up!" She shrieks. "You're such a jerk."

"I'm the jerk? Sweetheart, you're the one with your panties in a twist over nothing. Are you sure you're not PMSing?"

"How dare you! - "

"Come now, let's go to breakfast, you're clearly hungry," he repeats her words back to her condescendingly.

Effie glares at him, lips pursed tightly as he simply looks back at her amusedly.

"Now, now, you wouldn't want to be anything less than well-mannered around the tributes, would you? Let me do all the talking, you can just... Sip your tea," Haymitch gives a flourish with his hand and brushes past her, taking the stairs up to the table in twos. He doesn't usually like prolonging their serious arguments, but he's particularly angry with her breaking his trust.

Effie huffs but schools a smile onto her face as she follows him up to the dining room.

"Good morning," she trills at Peeta and Katniss. The boy shows no signs of having heard their argument, but the girl's amused look gives them away.

"What advice have you got for us this morning?" Katniss asks them dryly once they've settled into their chairs and have started eating.

Haymitch ignores her tone and starts giving them advice. He likes Peeta, and he wouldn't say he truly likes Katniss, but he doesn't want her to die and he thinks she has a chance. "This afternoon they'll bring you in one by one and evaluate you. This is important because higher ratings will mean sponsors," Haymitch turns away the avox's alcohol without thinking and Effie masks a smile behind her teacup. "This is the time to show them everything." He turns to Katniss, "There'll be a bow, make sure you use it. Peeta, you make sure to show your strength."

The tributes nod in understanding, both looking a little nervous about this part.

"They'll start with District One; so the two of you will go last. Well, I don't know how else to put this. Make sure they remember you."

Haymitch looks them each in the eye to gauge their emotions. Peeta can barely look at him, seems to be worrying and looks doubtful. Katniss however looks determined; has that fierce look in her eyes that reminds Haymitch why he likes her.

"This morning, I want you to learn any other skills you think might come in necessary in the arena. Make sure you've been to all of the stations. Practice a few more knots, try the plants section again. If you think you were any good at any of the weapons, use them again – that may be what keeps you alive in the arena."

"Use every minute!" Effie adds with an encouraging smile. "You'll be great."

"Thanks Effie," says Peeta politely.

After breakfast, Effie walks the teenagers down to the training centre; wishes them good luck and reminds them to be polite to the gamemakers when Katniss scowls at her rather than thanks her for the well wishes. She returns to the penthouse to find Haymitch sprawled out over the couch while Cinna and Portia perch on the chairs, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Haymitch!" She exclaims. "Sit up at once, you're being rude!"

He pulls a face, silently repeating her words with his nose and mouth all scrunched up, but reluctantly pushes himself up and slouches against the back of the couch. Effie sits down next to him, smiling tersely at the stylists.

"Hello Cinna, Portia," she says. "Have you two brought your designs with you?"

"Right here," Cinna replies, lifting a thin black carry bag from the ground and unzipping it to remove a sketch book. "Portia and I have been working on these over the last few days. We always knew what we wanted to do for the parade, and the audience responded so well to the flames so we're keeping that theme."

"However this time we don't want them looking too similar," Portia continues, leaning over towards Cinna and flicking to one of the pages of the book. "We're thinking this design for Peeta. It will emphasise his looks –"

"That boy has a striking jaw," Cinna says.

Effie nods in agreement, inching towards the edge of the couch so she can see the design. "Ooh, lovely! It will be black, I presume?"

"Yes. Black with flame accents here – and here," Portia points to the sketch. "Possibly here, too, but we think it might be too much. We don't want the outfit to overpower him, he has a great personality."

Haymitch chuckles at that. "Indeed he does. Unlike Katniss – you better make sure her costume takes the crowd's breath away."

Effie purses her lips and hisses, "manners, Haymitch."

The stylists share an amused look before Portia turns the page. "Peeta's prep team will do his hair like this, with minimal makeup. I... Um. What angle will he be playing? You two work with them tomorrow don't you?"

"Yes," Effie nods, having forgotten that it's the first year for both stylists, having felt like she's known them for years. "I'll work with Katniss in the morning while Haymitch works with Peeta, and then we'll switch after lunch. I'll help them with their presentation while Haymitch helps with content... Peeta's so charming though. I expect we'll just have him be his usual self."

"Perfect," replies Cinna.

"Now what about the girl?" Haymitch asks.

"For Katniss I've come up with two designs... This first one would require her angle to be sexy, suave, a little edgy. She'd need to show that spirit from when she volunteered but also be charming –"

Haymitch snorts and Effie whacks him with her clipboard. She's been making notes from what the stylists have been saying so she keeps it in mind when she's working with the tributes tomorrow.

"What does it look like?"

Cinna turns a few pages over. "It's a skin tone body suit, with teasing flames."

Effie has no doubt that this costume would look amazing on Katniss but she doesn't think the teenager has the personality to pull it off. Haymitch voices this thought, secretly thinking that it would be perfect for Effie.

"That won't work. Katniss has about as much charm as a dead slug."

The other three can't help but be amused.

"I hate to be rude, but he's right," Effie says. "Katniss won't be able to make this work – not unless I have a breakthrough tomorrow morning... but – am I right in saying that these outfits will begin to be made today?"

"You are," Cinna nods.

"Well, I don't want this body suit made if it's not going to work... what's your other design?"

"I came up with this late last night so I don't have a final sketch, but it's a full length red dress covered completely in precious gems. I'll have streaks of blue ones here – and here, like this –" He points at his design as he describes it, "and it'll look like she's on fire when she moves."

"Ohh," Effie is stunned silent for a moment before a smile overtakes her face. "Yes, _yes_! Oh, it's wonderful! That has to be the one – it's beautiful, Cinna! And so is Peeta's suit, Portia! Oh – they're going to look so perfect. They're going to be such shining _pearls_!"

The stylists smile and Portia elbows Cinna subtly. "I _told_ you the dress would be best."

"I like it," Haymitch mutters, feeling a headache coming on, and closes his eyes.

Effie beams at the stylists, beyond happy with their designs. She only hopes that Katniss manages to lose her hostility for her interview; with these designs and the teenagers' fiery spirits and strengths, she's starting to truly believe they have a chance this year. "Will Katniss be wearing heels?"

"I think so, yes," Cinna replies.

"I'll have her practice tomorrow."

Effie talks with the duo for a while longer, ignoring Haymitch's grumbles from where he is slumped beside her on the couch. She enjoys the stylists' company, thinks she'll definitely see more of them once the Games are over this year.

"Well, we best be going," Portia says as Cinna begins packing up their sketch book. "We'll see you for dinner."

"Indeed. Hopefully Katniss and Peeta will receive decent training scores!"

"I'll cross my fingers," Cinna says, standing up from his seat.

Effie stands too and walks them to the elevator, kissing their cheeks goodbye and apologising for Haymitch's rudeness. The stylists laugh it off; all too aware of the mentor's nature. The escort goes to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water before returning to the lounge. Haymitch appears to be sleeping on the couch so she doesn't scold him; merely huffs and sits beside him again to go over her notes.

They're not really sure where the rest of the morning goes, but it's spent in a sort of tense silence that builds until it's unbearable and culminates with Effie jumping up from the couch, throwing her clipboard on the floor and announcing that she's going to the gym. Haymitch blinks, half-asleep with a glass of wine in his hand. He started having convulsions a few hours ago and settled for a nice glass of red to try and tame them without pissing Effie off further. Why he's always trying to please her he doesn't know; and he's aware that he's contradicting his previous intentions to piss her off.

"You're what?"

"I'm going to the gym," she replies in a clipped tone.

"Oh," he replies like it's something she says every day but mostly he's thinking that this means he'll be alone.

"You can come if you want," offers Effie; ever the polite one. "It's better than sitting around drinking."

Haymitch scowls up at her. "I'll come. I don't have anything to wear though."

"I'll find you something."

* * *

"You're barely wearing any makeup," Haymitch comments dumbly as Effie leaves her room in a pair of form-fitting black leggings and a midriff-showing hot pink sports singlet, her dark blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Well, we are going to the gym," she replies with an amused smile.

"But... You don't care if anyone sees?" He wonders who stole his tongue as the words come slowly, disjointedly out of his mouth.

"No. The gym is one of the few places I can get away with a bare face."

Haymitch nods, standing beside her in an awkward silence, his hands tucked into the pockets of the sweatpants she got an avox to send up. The tension between them is reminisce of their first few years working together, except back then the hurt didn't cut quite so deep.

"Well, come on!" Effie exclaims as she practically bounces towards the elevators, eager to have something to do besides be angry at Haymitch.

They're silent from the penthouse to gym, thankful that their driver doesn't ask them any questions about their tributes which would require them to interact. Haymitch thinks he'll bite her head off if she says one pro-games thing, even if it is a lie. He follows her into the exclusive establishment, evident by the need to be buzzed into the building and be greeted by a perfectly coiffed woman with diamonds implanted at the corners of her eyes. Once inside. Effie immediately makes for the treadmills and Haymitch can't help but ask his second incredulous question in ten minutes.

"You run?"

Effie laughs, stepping up onto the treadmill. "How else do you think I have these great legs?"

They share a smirk, before remembering that they're meant to be mad at each other and Haymitch stalks over to the weights while she tells the machine to speed up.

She watches him lifting weights as she runs, watches his biceps ripple with every movement. He's not what you'd call fit, but he's certainly strong - as Effie well knows. She's brought out of her imaginings of Haymitch taking her on the bench press by Finnick's jovial call.

"Hey Effie!"

"Oh, hey Finnick!" She smiles, slowing down the treadmill so she can talk without losing her breath. "How are you?"

"Good, good," he grins. "Bit mad that your tributes stole the parade; I was certain mine would win in their fish costumes," he says with a grin.

"Oh please. Everyone knows two-tone aqua went out of season three years ago," she laughs, pressing a button so the treadmill dispenses a bottle of water.

"Our stylists were trying to make a comeback," he replies indignantly, the laughter still evident in his eyes.

"Well, it failed." Effie says bluntly, before giggling and thinking she really has picked up some of Haymitch's characteristics.

Finnick gives a faux sigh and finally steps up onto the treadmill next to her, starting at a slow jog to get his muscles warmed up.

"Haymitch! I didn't see you there!" He calls to the older victor, who has just sat up for a breather.

"Finnick," Haymitch replies with a nod, trying not to snarl.

He listens to her chatting with the District Four victor as he returns to his weights and it occurs to him that he doesn't truly know what Effie's life is like beyond the games. He knows bits and pieces, funny stories and important events, but despite knowing her better than anyone else, his knowledge of the other fifty-odd weeks of her year is limited. He grinds his teeth as he hears the pair laughing over something, and wonders whether they see each other throughout the year since Finnick is often called to the Capitol. Haymitch only sees Effie for the games, and in recent years for the Victor's tour when he comes to the Capitol for the president's banquet, claiming it's the better alcohol rather than her company that he likes.

He starts brainstorming ideas for why he himself would need to come to the Capitol throughout the year, but anything he comes up with sounds like a flaky excuse; one that wouldn't work twice. He wonders whether he could just move to the damned city, pretend to be sick of the shitty liquor in his district, then curses his years of anti-Capitol raving for the president would surely suspect him of something.

_Thirteen, you need to hurry up with your fucking rebellion._

* * *

After an hour or so, Haymitch becomes sick of listening to Effie and Finnick's conversation and stalks out of the gym, leaving the weights lying around for someone else to pick up. He knows he's brought this upon himself by not directly confronting her but he doesn't know how he'll explain how he found out Finnick knows about them without telling her how and when he saw the other victor. Haymitch supposes he could say he saw him in passing, but Effie is very perceptive and will know he's lying.

Upon leaving the gym he is confronted by reporters and scowls at them all; says a silent thank you when an empty taxi drives past and he flags it down. He makes idle chit-chat with the driver, all the while wondering whether he should simply tell Effie the truth about Thirteen, but he doesn't think he could deal with putting her in danger. He heads straight for the shower when he eventually reaches the penthouse, stripping his clothes off in the hallway as no one else is around.

He's lathering shampoo into his hair when Effie walks through the open door to the bathroom, her arms full of the clothes he'd abandoned in the hallway. She shakes her head, depositing them on the shelf in the bathroom before peeling off her sweaty clothes.

"I think we broke my shower this morning, she comments with an amused smile, shutting the door behind her.

"Well, by all means, join me," he grins, forgetting his anger towards her when she's standing naked in front of him. He curses his cock for taking control from his brain but doesn't mind when she cups his jaw and stands on tip toes to kiss him softly.

"That was the best run I've had in ages," she says with a smile. He's about to snarl about Finnick when she continues, "you were a nice view to look at."

He smirks, dropping his soapy hands to slide down her sides and grasp her behind while her fingers slide into his hair, taking over from his and massaging the shampoo into his dirty hair. He squeezes her ass rather forcefully, his dick growing hard as she lets out a low moan.

"No-o," she gasps. "We can't. Cinna and Portia will be here within the hour –" She has to pause because a hand has slid between her buttocks and is stroking her folds. "Stop! We don't have time..."

"There's always time," he replies with a smirk, dropping his head to simultaneously rinse the shampoo from his hair and run his tongue along her collarbone.

"No! I mean it Haymitch. We don't."

The blonde slaps his hands away and he resigns himself to a few sneaky gropes when she's reaching for bottles of various gels and liquids that are apparently necessary to become clean in her world. He can't get his erection to subside however, and when she steps out of the shower to go get ready he finishes himself off, cumming with the memories of their morning shower sex. He allows himself to stay under the hot spray for a while before he too gets out.

Despite her leaving the shower a full fifteen minutes before him, he still makes it to the sitting room before her. He's in the middle of cursing the lack of ice and pouring himself a glass of water rather than alcohol when the elevator doors open and the stylists step out.

"Hello Haymitch," they greet him as they walk through the foyer.

"Hello," he replies, dropping to the couch and watching as they make themselves at home, pouring themselves drinks and asking him where Effie is.

"She's getting dressed," he mutters. "Gotta get herself all dolled up again." The stylists smirk and and he realises his hair is still wet; they must be assuming things. "Euh, no, nothing like that! We went to the gym."

"Effie went to the gym?" Portia asks, trying not to choke on her drink.

"Yeah. She runs, apparently," Haymitch mutters. "She's full of surprises."

"I would never have expected that," Cinna says. "Although she does have a great figure."

Haymitch's jaw would clench if he wasn't convinced that the man was gay. Effie thinks otherwise, and she does have better knowledge of Capitol men, but he still thinks the gold eyeliner makes the stylist gay. He simply grunts in response to the comment, not wanting to agree aloud. They sit in stony silence until the sound of the escort's heels on the hard floor echo down the hallway.

"Cinna, Portia!" She exclaims upon seeing them, turning to look at Haymitch with pursed lips. "Why didn't you tell me they were here? I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness."

"It's fine." Cinna says as he kisses her on the cheek. "We were just being informed that you two went to the gym."

"Yes we did. I had the most refreshing run." She smiles, pouring herself a glass of alcohol-free blue punch upon seeing Haymitch with a glass of water. "I was just having one of those days, you know?"

Portia nods, sliding to the side so Effie can squeeze in between her and Haymitch. "I would never have taken you for the running type."

"I'm full of surprises," Effie laughs and takes a sip of her drink. "How are the interview outfits coming along?"

Her leg is touching Haymitch's and he finds himself zoning out of the conversation, concentrating on their small point of connection. He's at ends with his feelings towards her – simultaneously wanting to envelop her in his arms and take her on the couch and tell her all about the rebellion, and wanting to scream at her for breaking his trust. He hates that she's got such a hold over him, hates that it only takes a smile from her or a seductive comment to melt him. At some stage Peeta returns from training but Haymitch is too consumed by thoughts of Effie to really notice the boy's arrival. He only comes back to reality when he hears the others calling Katniss' name and sees the girl race towards her room with tears rolling down her cheeks. He groans; from the look of things her session didn't go very well, and his hope for her is deteriorating.

"Damn," he mutters, leaning back into the couch and sipping on his drink before remembering it's only water.

"Come on!" Effie snaps, jumping up from the couch and tugging on his arm. "We need to see if she's okay."

"Alright, alright," replies Haymitch upon seeing her no-nonsense face.

They go Katniss' room, knocking on the door and trying to get her to come out; Effie talking in soothing tones to the younger girl, but they only get shouted at to go away. Effie refuses to give up but Haymitch has to tug her away from Katniss' door after a few more minutes.

"I'm worried," she whispers into his ear, pressing against his chest as she does so.

"We don't know what happened. She mightn't have fucked up too badly," he replies quietly, listening to the sound of Katniss' sobs and inhaling the scent of Effie's perfume.

"I hope not... And I've never seen Katniss like this before." Effie sighs.

They stand pressed against each other in the middle of the hallway for a few more moments before parting and returning to the sitting room, shaking their heads when the others look at them with questioning eyes. They turn their attention to Peeta over the next hour, giving him further advice and quizzing him on the things he learned in training. When the avox and other Capitol attendants have dinner set up for them, Effie goes to retrieve Katniss from her room. Everyone wants to ask Katniss about her private session but no one seems willing to go first, instead they talk about the weather until Haymitch can't stand it.

"Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?" He snarls.

Peeta, of course, tries to cheer Katniss up, and they eventually find out that she shot an arrow at the Gamemakers. Effie manages to school her expression into shock - secretly wishing she too could shoot an arrow at those horrid people. Haymitch somehow manages to calm Katniss down, guffawing when she describes the Gamemakers' reactions.

He has to subtly nudge Effie under the table when says "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you."

Effie glances at him, eyes telling him that she didn't mean to let that slip, looks nervously around the room for they are sure to be recorded in here. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think."

They finish dinner and return to the sitting room to watch the announcement of the tributes' training scores. Haymitch once again ends up slouched next to Effie, wondering whether he should be concerned that he continues to gravitate towards her even when he's mad at her. Peeta receives his eight and Katniss her eleven and pretty soon their tributes are in bed and the stylists gone. Effie and Haymitch end up in her room, an oppressive silence drifting over them once again as she removes her heels and starts undoing her dress. He sighs and starts taking off his clothes, unable to bring himself to leave the room. He's just shrugged out of his jacket when he hears her whisper his name and he looks up from the ground to see her standing helplessly in front of him. He frowns, watching as she runs her hands up her arms and her gaze wavers.

"I... I once read somewhere that you shouldn't go to bed angry... and... can we just pretend that we're not annoyed with each other tonight? Please?"

He'd like to tell her no and fuck off but her lower lip is quivering and the forlorn expression on her face makes him hold his tongue.

"I know it sounds silly," she continues when he remains silent, fiddling with the bed sheets, "but I only see you for a few weeks a year... and... it's really hard... to not see you... And I don't want to be spending this time angry."

Her voice cracks and he doesn't hesitate to gather her in his arms as she starts to cry.

"I know... I hate fighting with you... Well, I enjoy it when we fight over dumb things but I don't like this..." He says softly, truthfully.

She continues to sob into his shirt and he leads them back to the bed, leaning backwards so he ends up lying down with her on top of him.

"I love you," he tries when she doesn't stop.

She lifts her head to look down at him with mascara stained her cheeks. "Promise me you'll let me put a phone in your house?"

"I... Okay," he relents.

Haymitch reaches up to remove the hairpins that hold her wig to her head before lifting the coloured thing off. She winces when he catches some of her hair on pins he missed and he smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she whispers, smiling as he runs his hands through her natural waves. "So... You agree with not going to bed angry?"

"Sweetheart, I'll do whatever you want," he replies, wiping her tears away and knowing he really is head over heels now.

Effie responds with a smile that lights up her entire face, pink-lipstick lips stretching wide and showing her bleached teeth. He looks back at her curiously, his eyes darting over her face, and her smile begins to fade.

"What? What is it? Is there something on my face?"

"No," he chuckles at her horrified expression. "I was just thinking that even though you're wearing all that Capitol crap, you're still you and you're still cute when you smile."

"Who are you and what have you done with Haymitch Abernathy?"

"Hey, you wanted us to go to bed happy..."

"You're right, I did. I'll just go and remove my makeup..."

She kisses him softly and rolls off of him, padding into the bathroom as he lets his eyes fall closed. A few minutes later she returns and finds him already asleep, still in his shirt and pants. She smiles softly, leaning over him to loosen his tie and undo the top buttons of his shirt. She's sliding his tie from around his neck when his hand grasps her wrist and startles her.

Haymitch chuckles, opening his eyes and pulling her down for a kiss. His hand moves from her wrist to caress her breasts through her flimsy nightgown. She gasps as his palm brushes over her left nipple, fingertips grazing her side. He kisses her languidly, tongue rolling over hers in a slow but fiery dance. She sighs, lifting her leg to straddle his waist, silk gown bunching up around the tops of her thighs.

Effie finally removes his tie and gasps again as his other hand slides down her back and caresses her ass through the smooth silk. She grinds back against his hand, his fingers gliding over her already wet folds.

He groans into her mouth, nibbling at her bottom lip when he feels how aroused she is, feels his cock twitch against his pants. With one hand he teases her nipple to a hard nub and with the other he strokes her pussy until she's rolling her hips over his in a desperate attempt to have his fingers slip inside her.

She's growing desperate as his fingers slide along her slick exterior, his arm nestled between her buttocks, but never entering her. She lets out a whine, wanting nothing more than to have him pumping his fingers inside her quim. Letting out a gasp as he teasingly dips two fingers inside her she bucks her hips down, pushing against his cock. His pants are surely getting ruined from her arousal but neither of them care.

"Do that again," demands Haymitch with raggedy breath, swirling his fingers over her clit and moving his hand from her breast to her ass.

"Only if you do."

He chuckles, sliding his fingers inside her again, and groaning when she grinds against his dick**. **Effie continues to squirm as his fingers stroke her soft walls, three of them pumping inside her until she can't take it any longer. She gasps his name, shuddering against his body and grasping the sheets tightly between her fingers. Haymitch watches the expression of pure bliss crossing her face and smiles, knowing he caused that.

When she recovers, she sits up and finally removes her silk gown, grinning as he licks his fingers clean. She starts on undoing his pants, the crotch completely soaked from her arousal, but struggles with removing them while she's straddling him. The pressure in Haymitch's dick is begging for release and when he finds she's taking too long to remove his pants he grasps her sides and flips them over.

"Oh!" She giggles, looking up at him and helping push his pants down. They end up somewhere around his knees before he gets impatient and enters her. He thrusts inside her, relishing the feel of her hot walls around his cock, her body pressed firmly against his. She presses kisses to his skin, runs her palms along his back, drags her fingertips through his hair. He smiles when she touches him so lovingly, almost forgets that he's been mad at her.

They climax simultaneously; kissing slowly and muffling each other's moans, not needing words to express their love.


End file.
